Normality
by AlphaOmegaPsi
Summary: In an alternate universe where Edward never returns and Bella marries Jacob, it's their kids that continue their story. Bella/Jacob, M/M.
1. Chapter 1

AN: So I got this idea in my head, and I had to write it. I've abandoned most of my Twilight projects before this, but I think I'll probably stick with this one. I have a good plot planned out, and I really like the idea. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

It wasn't easy having a Werewolf for a father.

Besides the horrible temper, he always wanted to wrestle or goof around. With any other dad, that wouldn't have been a problem, but since I didn't possess the same strength as him, it often led to me sporting big black bruises or broken bones. We weren't strangers to Child Services.

My sister Lizzie usually avoided this treatment, since dad still thought of her as his delicate little flower. Little did he know that no matter how often I worked out, I still could never beat her at arm-wrestling contest. Her gloating afterward was far from delicate.

Still, it wasn't like I hated my family. My dad and sister were just a little too weird for me. I identified most with my mom, who was completely human, inside and out. I felt like she knew what it was like for me to be average in a family like this.

Yeah, I was a momma's boy. I inherited my father's temper, though. I was infamous at school for being the quiet boy who could snap in a second. Most people stayed away from me because of it, but it wasn't like I didn't have friends. Sure, most of them were adults and Werewolves…okay, all of them were adults and Werewolves. They were the only ones who weren't afraid of me snapping, who could take my blows and pin me until I calmed down. Sometimes Lizzie could too, if she caught me before I got too bad. It was hard to believe she was two years younger than me.

Sure, it wasn't fun being avoided most of the time in school. Everyone being on edge around you, scared to say the wrong thing in case you get in the merry mood to rip their heads from their shoulders, it was a real bummer.

It wasn't easy having a Werewolf as a father, but getting none of the powers and still retaining all the freakish glory…that was even worse.

--

"Something's bothering you today."

I stared at the yellow stress ball I was throwing up in the air and catching, too mesmerized by the rhythmic movement to look up at my blonde, middle-aged therapist.

"No more than usual," I mumbled. Up and down and up and down. I breathed with the rhythm, noting with some amusement that my heart rate rose along with it.

"Barlie, look at me." I glanced over at the old bag just in time to miss the ball on the way back down. It fell harmlessly on my face and rolled across the floor to the other side of the room. I frowned after it, but didn't fetch it.

"Nothing's bothering me," I said, still staring after the ball. My therapist - Mrs. Mavis, I think her name was- sighed and scribbled something down on her little pad of paper.

"I can't help you if you're going to keep things from me," she said, her tone clipped but careful. Even she was scared of my tempers. I scowled, finally looking her in the eye.

"I'm not keeping anything from you. There's just nothing really going on."

"Uh-huh…how's your father?" I grimaced as I realized he was out with the wolves today. I could have gone too if I didn't have to go to this stupid therapy session my parents insisted on. Mrs. Mavis scribbled in her pad furiously.

Of course, it was probably at least partially influenced by the state. They were trying their damned hardest to prove my father was abusing me. He wasn't, really; he was a little rough, but he never intentionally hurt me. He was used to dealing with much stronger people was all. Besides, it wasn't as if they could really take me away from home. I wouldn't be a minor anymore in three months, and there was nothing they could do after that.

"He's fine," I said, half-smiling for her benefit alone. "He's a really great, loving father. I'm lucky to have him."

"Any new injuries lately?" she asked, staring intently at my face as she spoke. "Any trips to the hospital you'd like to tell me about?"

"None for about six months now," I answered easily. Dad had let up a little bit when he realized just how serious the situation was. He spent a lot of time with the wolves to get rid of the pent-up energy.

"Nothing…else?" Her gaze was piercing as she stared at me through her wire-rimmed glasses. "You know you can tell me anything. I know you're trying to protect your father, but if he's doing something bad…"

"He's not a bad guy!" I yelled, slamming my hand down on the glass coffee table. When I pulled my fist away, cracks were spreading on the surface and blood was dripping from a cut on my hand.

"Shit," I muttered, trying to keep it from dripping on the couch I was sitting on. "Can I get a towel?"

"Of course." Ms. Mavis fetched one from her desk kept specially for these occasions and handed it to me. Though she tried to put up a cool front to act like she wasn't afraid of me, I could see her shaking and the way she didn't seem to want to make physical contact with me at all. I sopped up the blood with the towel, wincing at the pain.

"I think I should go to the hospital," I said, standing up. "There might be glass in there; I should get it cleaned out." Ms. Mavis nodded and led me to the door, the look of veiled relief all-too-evident on her face.

"We'll pick this up again next week," she said. "Feel better." She couldn't get the door closed quick enough as I walked away, past the receptionist and out into the quiet, dreary streets.

I didn't head to the hospital like I said I would; instead, I went straight home. I didn't feel like dealing with all the questioning again, and besides my mother was more than capable of fixing a little cut like this. She was a nurse, and a pretty damn good one too. She usually picked me up after sessions, so when I walked in almost half an hour early she was visibly surprised.

"Barlie? What are you doing home so soon?" She glanced at my hand. "What happened? You're bleeding! Sit down, sit down now!" She pushed me into a chair in the kitchen and rummaged around in the drawer until she found her pair of tweezers and a roll of clean gauze. She also fetched rubbing alcohol and some cotton balls from the medicine cabinet.

"You should have gone to the hospital," she admonished, moving the towel aside and peering into the cut. "Just as I thought; there's a few shards imbedded in the skin. Damn it, Barlie, what did you break this time?"

"I just cracked a coffee table," I said. "No big deal. She's a therapist; she can afford to replace it."

"That's not really the point, is it?" She carefully grasped a sliver from the cut and I hissed as she pulled it free.

"That stings," I complained.

"It's going to sting a lot worse if you keep squirming like that." She pinned my hand down on the wooden table. "Hold still. I think I only see two more."

"So is dad still out?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the pain.

"Yes…he went to Sam's a few hours ago and hasn't been back since. He didn't even call." She scowled as she gently eased another sliver out. "I swear, sometimes I think he loves those guys more than he does me."

"You know that's not true, mom." I smiled reassuringly. "Dad's over the moon about you. Has been since you guys met. He just needs a place to vent his energy, and doing that around here is dangerous."

"Well, you're probably right, but I still wish he'd stay around a little more often." She eased a small, almost microscopic piece of glass out of my hand and dropped it on the table. "Okay, make a fist. Is there any sharp pain in the cut?" I flexed my wounded hand a couple times, and aside from the pain of the cut there was nothing.

"I think you got it all," I said. Mom sighed in relief.

"Good," she said, sweeping the glass carefully off the table and throwing it away. "Now comes the fun part."

"Swell." I braced myself for that cold, demonic liquid, but there was no real way to prepare. Once it hit an open wound, it got inside and stung so much it made me want to throw a chair up against a wall. Lucky for our chairs, and our walls, mom had that innate ability to calm me down that all mothers seemed equipped with. She dabbed gently at the cut, all the while gently stroking my arm and humming a wordless lullaby. She had never told me about that song, where it came from or why it was so soothing, but I never felt any great curiosity about it. I had been hearing it since I was little, and never once had it occurred to me to ask about it. It was just one of those things that I couldn't question.

When she was done, she wrapped the bandage tightly around my hand.

"There you go. Good as new. Luckily the cut wasn't too deep, so it should heal in a few days."

"Thanks, mom." I flexed my injured hand and found it still sore and painful, but better than when I walked in. Mom put all the medical supplies away, then went back to the show she'd been watching.

"Shoot, it's over," she muttered, flipping through channels. I grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry," I said, feeling guilty enough to join her on the couch. "What were you watching anyway?"

"Nothing special," she said. "Some host show. They were having this rich kid on tonight. An actor or something."

"What's his name?"

"Archie something…" Mom shrugged. "I really can't remember what he goes by. It was a rerun anyway; I've already seen it."

"Why did you want to watch it again?" I frowned, puzzled by my mother's behavior. She shrugged again.

"Guess I just wanted to see his face." The air was tense, so I decided to change the subject.

"Where'd Lizzie run off to?" I asked, noticing that the house was too quiet for her to be hanging around.

"She just went to a movie with her friends," Mom answered, her eyes still focused on the television screen. "Why don't you go find your father and bring him back home while I fix dinner? Tell him I don't want him coming home smelling like deer carcass again; he's eating a human meal."

"Okay…will you be okay by yourself?" Mom stared up at me like I was crazy.

"I thought I was the mom here, not you. I'll be fine, Barlie. I've been alone before, as hard as it may be to believe." I chuckled.

"Sorry, mom. I just worry, you know?" I bent to kiss her cheek. "I'll be back soon."

When I left, I noticed for the first time how chilly it was. I didn't have my jacket on, but I felt silly going back for it, so I just pressed on toward Sam's house. It wasn't like I would die on the short trek there; a little cold air wouldn't kill me. Anyway, all I really needed to do was fetch dad and we would be going home.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. When I reached Sam's house, the only one home was Emily.

"They all went into the woods about half an hour ago." She sighed. "I don't know what they do out there. These are peaceful times. It's not like there are any vampires they need to defend against."

"I know what you mean. My mom says the same thing." I shivered a bit. "Hey, do you mind if I wait here for my dad? They'll probably be coming back eventually, and mom won't like it if I go back without him."

"Sure, come on in." I followed Emily into her home and into the kitchen, where I could smell something good cooking. Her son, Sam Jr., was coloring in his high chair quietly.

"Hey, there, Sammy," I said, sitting at the table beside him. "What are you coloring?" He didn't answer, though at five years old he was perfectly capable, and didn't meet my eyes. I frowned. My father had told me about his suspicions regarding Sammy, suspicions his parents seemed hell-bent on denying. It wasn't really my business, but I wished I could tell them to just take him to a doctor already. It was better to know, even if it was something bad. It's not like they would suddenly hate him if he was autistic, would they? Considering their reactions, I wasn't sure I wanted the answer to that question

Then again, I wondered if I had any room to judge them. Emily's scars were something I had gotten used to, but that didn't make them any less obvious or real. Maybe they just wanted something normal in their lives, something they could cling to that wouldn't have to be explained. As I watched Sammy color, I couldn't quite accept that as an appropriate answer. I couldn't see shunning a part of your own child just because it didn't fit your standards, even if things in your own life were hard. Wasn't that just a continuation of a vicious cycle? It made my blood boil just to think about it.

"What are you making, Emily?" I asked, trying to turn myself away from angering thoughts.

"Pork loins," she answered easily, checking the small timer on the counter. "The wolves are probably coming over again tonight, so I made a big serving. Did you want to stay? I got jelly for it."

"No, thanks," I said. "As tempting as that sounds, mom will kill me if I don't get dad home soon. Besides, she's cooking dinner right now and I think she'd like it if we were actually there for it tonight."

"If you say so," Emily said, shrugging. "How is your mother, by the way? I heard she was sick."

"A little cold, nothing serious. The hospital won't let her come back until she's completely well, though. Sterility and all that." I smiled. "I don't think she knows what to do with herself being home all the time. She's been sitting around watching TV a lot lately. I think she'll be okay to go back to work in a couple days, though."

"That's good." Emily glanced at the timer again. I didn't get to talk with her much, so I imagined this was probably awkward for her. Sure, she knew me. She knew me as my father's son. As an individual person, she knew nothing about me. It wasn't like I took a great interest in her, and it wasn't as if I really cared, but it made situations like this uncomfortable for both of us. When we had nothing to talk about, no werewolf buffers to bounce topics off of, any hint of casual conversation dried up.

"So, uh…where's Leah going?" I asked, trying desperately to keep the ball in the air. Leah was their daughter, a pleasant enough 20-year-old who was currently working on her degree in art. I didn't know her that well, but I figured it was as good a topic as any.

"CCA," Emily said. She didn't elaborate, and I felt weird asking her to. Again we fell into an awkward silence, Sammy's crayon softly scratching over the page the only sound in the room. Thankfully, we didn't stay that way for long, as a crowd of noisy werewolves piled into the house only minutes later.

Some people were uncomfortable around crowds, but I felt like I was the exact opposite of that. I loved being surrounded by people, especially people who noticed me right away and actually seemed happy to see me. I stood just as I failed to dodge the punch Paul aimed at my arm. That would be a bruise in the morning.

"If we'd known you were here, we would have come back sooner," Seth said happily, catching me in a one-armed bear hug. "How you been, Barlie?"

"Great," I said, grinning up at my friend and trying to breathe through the headlock. "It feels like forever since I've seen you guys."

"It has been! You need to come out with us sometime!" Seth released me and patted my back in what he probably thought was a gentle manner. I lurched forward and gripped a chair to keep myself upright.

"I don't think I'd really be able to keep up with you guys," I pointed out. "But thanks for the invite." I smiled warmly at the werewolf. From his first transformation at fourteen, Seth was the youngest of all the wolves. He was much older now, of course, but he looked like he had barely aged a day. He still had that childish glint in his eye, still had that playful personality. Though he definitely didn't look fourteen, he looked like he could fall into my age group. Sometimes we'd hang out, and I'd feel normal for a bit. But Seth was a lot like my father: he was used to dealing with stronger people, and often went too far. It made him scared to spend any time with me alone, though I secretly thought that being around the whole pack would probably be more dangerous in the long run.

I spotted my father chatting with Emily and approached him, touching his bare arm to get his attention.

"Mom wants you home," I said firmly. "She's making dinner, and says she wants you to eat with us."

"Oh, but Emily's cooking is so good," my father groaned. "Can't I just stay for one little bite?"

"Your idea of a little bite is three servings," I said, shaking my head. "No, she told me to come fetch you and if I don't come back with you hungry she's going to be really pissed." He sighed.

"Okay…" he mumbled, his downtrodden face just like a kid's. True to most werewolf appearances, my father looked like he could be in his mid-twenties instead of the almost-forty that he was. I wondered if my mother, who was really starting to show her age, ever resented the fact that he got to stay young and active while she kept getting older.

We said goodbye to the wolves and left, making the short trek home. Dad was shirtless, as usual, and didn't seem bothered by the cold. I, however, was really feeling it as the wind whipped my short hair around, cutting into my face. I crossed my arms to try to retain some of my body heat, and sighed in relief when dad put his arm around me to share his furnace-like warmth.

"You should have brought a jacket," he admonished. He caught sight of my bandaged hand. "What happened?"

"Smashed it on a coffee table," I said casually. "My therapist pissed me off a bit and I lost my head. Mom fixed it up."

"You need to learn to control this thing," my father said seriously. "We all had to learn to control our tempers, and it was in our genes. You shouldn't be having this much of a problem with a little anger."

"Well, I'm sorry," I said, frowning in annoyance. "I can't help it. Sometimes I think I have it under control, then the next second I snap. I don't know what it is; it's like I just lose control of my body, like I'm a passenger in my own head while my body freaks out. I wish I could just learn to control myself like you and the wolves did, but…" I shook my head. "I don't think the therapy is helping, either. Dad, I hate it there."

"Well, you're going to keep going as long as I tell you to go," he said. "We've been over this before, Barlie; you're not coming out of therapy until your anger is under control."

"But she pisses me off!" I said through clenched teeth. I could feel my frustration rising. "Can't I at least switch therapists? Maybe get someone who doesn't have frozen peas for brains?"

"If you switch therapists now, you'll have to start from scratch," dad said. "Do you really want to do that, after all the progress you've made?"

"I haven't made any progress!" I snarled, wrenching away from him. I no longer cared about the cold. "If you paid any attention to me at all instead of running around with those damn wolves all the time, you would know that!"

I ran off before he could answer, too angry to hear his response. He was always doing this, talking down to me because I couldn't learn to control myself. I tried, so hard, to just get over things and let them go. But the littlest thing could make me snap, and it wasn't like I liked this thing. I hated going crazy and breaking things; I hated not having any friends; I hated being different.

I burst into the house and stalked off to my room, ignoring my shocked mother. I told her I wasn't hungry and managed to lock the door before letting out a loud scream and throwing my lamp against the wall. It shattered so easily, landing in a broken heap on the carpet.

I was literally shaking with rage. I felt like I would explode. I wanted to kill something. If only I were a werewolf, god damnit I wanted to be one so badly.

Instead I attacked the bed, ripping sheets and blankets apart, throwing their tatters all over the room. I ripped apart the lining of the mattress, revealing the spring underneath and making it impossible for me to sleep on it.

When I had thoroughly gutted my bed, I curled up in a ball on the floor. I could feel the hot tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I held them back. I had just caused so much damage, burdened my parents so much… I didn't deserve to cry. Didn't deserve to feel better. A lump grew in my throat and there it stayed until night came and I fell into a restless sleep curled on the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I should actually be working on another story right now. But I'm not...shame on me! I cannot control where my inspiration will strike, I apologize but I doubt anyone cares!!

This one is a bit shorter than the first. It seemed like a good place to stop.

Disclaimer thingie:

Twilight and all characters in it (c) Stephenie Meyer

Everyone you don't recognize (c) Me

* * *

Mom didn't talk to me much the next day. Dad was already gone by the time I woke up, but I doubt he would have said much either. It was always like this for a while after I had an episode. It was the elephant in the room; they tried to acknowledge it and ignore it at the same time.

Lizzie wasn't awake yet, but I knew she would stop and see me later. She always wandered up to the bookstore where I worked around lunchtime, and we usually went to get something to eat together.

Mom offered to make me breakfast, but I couldn't take the tension anymore and skipped out. It wasn't like I would die after not eating for one day; what was the harm?

Then I remembered I hadn't eaten dinner the night before, and my stomach growled mournfully at me. Oh, well. It was too late to back out now. I could make it until lunch if I just didn't think about it.

"Good morning, Mr. Yorkie," I said to my boss as I entered the bookstore. He smiled.

"Barlie. You're two minutes late."

"I'm sorry," I said, trying my best to look contrite. "Would you believe me if I said I had to fight a group of aliens on my way over here? They were tougher than I thought."

"I might, if you brought me a head as proof," Mr. Yorkie teased.

"I disintegrated them all!" I groaned. "I wanted to make sure they didn't regenerate or switch bodies. I was only thinking of the planet, Mr. Yorkie, honest!"

"No proof, no excuse," he said playfully. "Your punishment is to reshelve all the books left out on the tables."

"Yes, sir," I sighed, chuckling as I walked away. Mr. Yorkie and I were both Sci-Fi fans, and banter like this wasn't uncommon between us. He was a pretty cool guy, and I was grateful for him hiring me even knowing about my condition. I probably had my mom to thank for that; she and Mr. Yorkie had been friends in high school. Besides, what was there to make me angry in a bookstore? More often than not, I was in the back checking inventory or restocking. I rarely ever interacted with customers, so the chance of them setting me off was slim. Besides, books always seemed to calm me down. I felt like I could escape into them and free myself from the realities of my life. Everything was okay in books, and even if I got angry while reading it was a normal kind of anger. I never had a fit over something that happened in a book. This was the safest place for me, and it definitely helped pay for some of the things I destroyed. Like my bed.

I grimaced as I realized I would have to sleep on the couch until I could afford a new mattress. Our couch was lumpy and uncomfortable. I'd be waking up with a crick in my neck for weeks.

As I grabbed one book after another, adding them to the steadily growing pile in my arms, I wondered why Mr. Yorkie didn't make Laura do this. She worked the night shift most of the time, and was usually the one the close up. But she never cleaned up the tables; that job was always left for me. Either she was the favorite, or Mr. Yorkie just liked torturing me.

It never ceased to amaze me just how many books people left lying around. Like they just pulled a book off the shelf, looked inside and found out it had words, then tossed it on a table and went about their merry business. Okay, not everyone was like that, but it seemed like more and more people came in here misunderstanding that a bookstore would carry book. We had more people asking about CDs or movies than actual books. Another good reason I didn't interact with customers: I would probably murder them.

To someone like me, it was baffling to hear someone complain about how they hate books, or get bored with something that wasn't exactly what they wanted. To me, most books were adventures. It didn't matter what the plot was; I would find out eventually. If I only wanted one type of plot, how could I find something I really enjoyed? It made no sense.

I wanted to get all the books in one go, but I realized that I wasn't even a third of the way done when my hands were full. At this rate, it would take me all morning to get them back in their rightful place. And there would be more customers coming in soon that would leave even more books around. This was such a never-ending job.

By the time lunch rolled around, I had managed to replace most of them on the shelves. However, I was right about customers taking other books out. There were already new ones that hadn't been there before, and other customers sitting around reading. I only had an hour for lunch, so I let them be; I could always get them when I came back, but I was starting to feel faint from hunger and Lizzie was probably waiting for me.

She was waiting, but I was surprised to find she was talking to someone. Well, not surprised; Lizzie was pretty social, so it wasn't exactly shocking to find her talking. But something about them just seemed off.

They were sitting at a table together, Lizzie on one side and a strange boy on the other. They were chatting like old friends, but I was fairly certain Lizzie didn't know the guy. I knew most of her friends, and he didn't look familiar at all. He was pale, with a pointed nose and short, dark blond hair. Something about him seemed weird, but I couldn't put my finger on it…

And then it hit me. He was one of those vampires dad and the wolves were always hunting. He'd described them to me before: pale and sickly, fast as lightning…there was no other explanation. A vampire had finally come back to Forks. I had to tell dad right away, but first I had to get Lizzie away from him.

I strode up to the table as menacingly as I could. "Lizzie," I said sharply. "What are you doing?" She looked startled at my approach.

"Oh! I was just talking to my new friend, uh…"

"Ethan," the boy said hurriedly, sticking his hand out for me to shake. He looked me up and down once, quickly, before glancing away. Probably trying to size me up before I noticed. Too bad I did notice. With triumph, I realized he was afraid of me. A few awkward seconds passed before he finally lowered his hand.

"Let's go," I said to my sister, trying to keep the menacing tone in my voice. Lizzie looked scared and nodded. She probably thought I was on the verge of an episode, but she had no way of knowing just how in-control of myself I was. Whatever it took to get her away, though; if I could just get her home, dad would make sure this vampire was eradicated for good.

"Uh…goodbye, Ethan," she said, waving to the stunned-looking boy as we exited the book shop. We didn't talk as we made our way home. She didn't comment on the fact that we didn't stop anywhere for lunch. Either she had just realized the gravity of the situation, or she was still worried I was going to go berserk. Fine either way. At least she was safe.

"Dad?" I called out when we entered the house. "Dad, are you here?" Unfortunately, the house was completely empty. Even mom was gone. Dad was probably out with the wolf pack. That was horribly inconvenient; how could they protect us against vampires if the minute one showed up they were nowhere to be found?

"Why are you looking for dad?" Lizzie asked warily. I sighed. Surely, she had to have noticed.

"There's a bloodsucker on the loose," I explained. "I need to tell him right away. We should go to Emily's." My sister's brown eyes widened.

"A…vampire?" she said hesitantly. "Where did you see it? How did you keep it from noticing you?"

"Come on, Lizzie! I know you're not stupid!" I grasped her shoulders and shook her once. "That boy you were talking to was a vampire! He wanted to eat you! I can't believe you forgot everything dad told us!" Lizzie looked stunned for a moment before her expression morphed into one of anger.

"You idiot!" she screamed, punching me in the arm. "That's why you pulled me away? I thought you were going to freak out! I was worried about you, asshole!" She growled and wrenched herself out of my grasp. "Ethan isn't a vampire. If you bothered to check things out thoroughly instead of jumping to insane conclusion, you would know that!"

"What are you talking about? Of course he is!" I clenched my teeth together, willing myself to calm down. How could she not have seen it? "Dad said vampires were pale and sickly-looking. That guy looked just like that."

"Yeah, and dad also said they were cold and had red or yellow eyes," Lizzie pointed out. "I shook his hand; it was the same temperature as mine. Maybe even a little warmer. And anyway, his eyes were green." She crossed her arms. "If you had bothered to just check things out, we wouldn't have had to waste lunch time."

"But…but…" I sputtered. "He has to be. I just got this weird feeling from him, Liz…"

"He was not a vampire! Get it through your thick skull!" Lizzie sighed and checked her watch. "We still have forty-five minutes left. We could get something to eat if you're up to it." I wanted to continue the argument—I knew he was a bloodsucker—but I knew Lizzie wouldn't listen so I just nodded. I was already starving, and if the wolves didn't know already I could tell them later. Until then, I just had to make sure I kept an eye on Lizzie. That vampire had definitely set his sights on her; I couldn't risk her being killed.

We made our way to a burger shop five minutes away, and settled down to eat. Lizzie was chattering about something, but I found it difficult to listen. I tried to look like I was paying attention while secretly checking to see if that vampire had followed us. I soon realized I wasn't being too subtle when Lizzie slammed her hands on the table, startling me.

"I knew you weren't listening!" she said triumphantly. "You're so obvious, Barlie."

"I'm sorry," I said with little conviction. "I'm just feeling a little antsy right now. I feel like we were followed."

"You feel like that because you're paranoid," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. "I'm telling you: Ethan is not a vampire and he is not hunting either of us."

"He must have used some kind of trick," I said thoughtfully. "Dad said some vampires had special powers; maybe this one has the power to appear human. It could be possible, Lizzie."

"Oh, for the love of…now you're just making excuses."

"I'm trying to cover all bases!" I insisted. "Look, no matter what you say, I know this guy is a vamp. I sensed it the moment I saw him."

"Oh, right, because you have that ability." Lizzie hurriedly ate the rest of her burger and fries. "I cannot talk to you when you're like this. I'm going to the mall. Have fun with the rest of work."

"No, wait!" I grabbed her arm as she tried to leave. "Just come to work with me. Please. I'll feel much more at ease if I can check to make sure you're okay."

"I'm not going to do that," she said, yanking her arm away from me. "There is no vampire. I'll be fine, just like I am every day. You're being ridiculous." It was no good. She was going to leave. I knew it wasn't right, but I knew there was no other option. If lying had worked before, it could work again.

I caught up with her at the door and leaned in close so I could lower my voice.

"This whole thing has me a little agitated," I said. "I'm a little scared that I'm going to freak out, Liz. Please, come to work with me. You're the only person who can even hope to control me when I'm like that." Lizzie heaved a huge sigh and I knew I had her.

"Fine," she said. "But I'm only doing it because I would hate myself if I didn't and something did happen."

"Thank you." The truth was, I wasn't feeling agitated at all. Rather, I was feeling triumphant. I already knew the vampire was afraid of me, which meant that as long as Lizzie was around me she was safe. I felt a little bad about lying to her again, but she wouldn't have come if I hadn't. She would be mad, but at least this way she wouldn't be dead.

Unfortunately, fate wasn't favoring me today. When we arrived back at the bookstore, the vampire was still there. He was browsing, but it was obvious it was him. I still got the same weird vibe looking at him. Lizzie was thrilled he was still there, and soon the two found a table to talk at. I was a little pissed, but I figured this still solved my problem. Lizzie wouldn't leave as long as she thought there was a problem with me, and at least here I could keep an eye on her. The bloodsucker probably wouldn't make a move in front of so many people. So as long as they decided to stick around, Lizzie was safe.

It was surprisingly distracting, having your little sister chatting with a bloodthirsty monster mere feet away. I started putting away books in the wrong place, and got a serious talk from Mr. Yorkie about responsibility. I knew he wouldn't fire me as long as my mom asked him to keep me, but I still felt a little guilty for shirking my work. I collected all the misfiled books and replaced them in their correct spot, careful to check the book thoroughly this time. By the time I was done, however, there were fresh piles of books sitting out on tables. Sighing, I went about my task again, cursing my sister and her new vamp friend.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted, but glad to see that Lizzie had stuck around like she said she would. Unfortunately, so had her new friend. Either the guy had nothing better to do, or he really wanted to suck her blood. I wouldn't be letting the latter happen anytime soon.

"My shift is over," I said, approaching my sister. I carefully ignored the other boy.

"Great. I thought it would never end." She grinned. "I want to go look for a book. Why don't you sit down and make nice?" I wanted to protest, but she was gone before I had the chance.

It was awkward, being alone with the person I had sworn a personal vendetta against. I couldn't see any way out of it, though, so I sat down across from him in Lizzie's old seat. He stared down at his lap, noticeably nervous in my presence.

"I know what you are," I said, deciding to break the silence. "I know what you're trying to do, too. And you can forget it. I'm not letting you have my sister." The boy looked confused.

"What?" He frowned. "I don't want her. Not that she's not nice, I mean, she's great, but I don't really like her that way."

"That's not what I mean," I said, leaning forward menacingly. "You can play dumb all you want, but I know. And I swear, if you mess with my family, I will make you pay. I know people who can rip you apart in a second."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: So for those of you wondering why Ethan and his family are coming over: his last name is Newton.

Thank you to Tomiko90 for reviewing both chapters!

Barlie is a huge jerk in this chapter, but can you guess why?

Disclaimer thingie:

Twilight and all characters in it (c) Stephenie Meyer

Everyone you don't recognize (c) Me

* * *

"Barlie, get dressed. Our guests will be here soon."

I looked up from the book I was reading, nestled almost comfortably into a corner of the couch.

"I am dressed," I said, turning back to the pages eagerly. The princess, which the main group of heroes had been spending the whole book trying to rescue, had just revealed herself to be evil. I didn't want to miss a second of this.

"You've been in your pajamas all day!" my mother yelled, snatching the book from my hands. I tried desperately to snatch it back as she dog-eared the page.

"Mom, come on! What does it matter if I'm in my pajamas? I don't think they'll care!" She threw the book back to me and it hit me on the nose before I scrambled to catch it.

"Get dressed," she said, pointed toward my room. "Now. Unless you want me to take it away for good."

"No…" I held the book protectively in my hands as I made my way to my room.

It was really empty without my bed in there. Dad had moved it out the day before while I was at work. I hadn't actually seem him all day yesterday, or even today. I wondered if he was going to be here for dinner. Mom would probably kill him if he wasn't, so I assumed yes.

I found a pair of jeans and a t-shirt lying on the floor. They were my clothes from yesterday, but I pulled them on anyway. I wasn't trying to impress anyone, and I wasn't about to dirty anymore clothes just for some stupid dinner party. Besides, I would be back in my pajamas in a few short hours.

In the safety of my room, I sat down at the computer chair and opened the book again. I carefully smoothed out the dog-eared page. I hated when people did that to my books. That's what bookmarks were for. I wanted to get back into it again, but only seconds after I continued reading, there was a knock on the door.

"Mom says get out here," Lizzie's voice said, somewhat muffled by the door. "If you don't, she's going to put your book into a shredder.

I didn't believe for a second that mom would actually do that to one of my books. However, I felt it best not to test my luck when she was so obviously agitated. I put a bookmark in my page and carefully hid it in the desk drawer. No sense taking chances.

When I left my room, I found my mother embracing some strange blond man. Next to the man was a beautiful brunette woman wearing a green sweater and black jeans. Off to the side, chatting up my sister, was Ethan.

I inspected Ethan closely and realized he was most likely the blond man's biological son. Their face was the same shape, both had pointed noses, both had light blond hair. The only thing different was that Ethan's eyes were green while his father's eyes were blue. Most likely, his eye color came from his mother.

I noticed a few similarities to her, too. His hair was waved, like hers, whereas his father's laid flat on his head. They had the same hands as well, small and delicate instead of big and awkward like his father. I found it funny that anyone who called themselves a man could have such feminine hands, but I supposed a vampire didn't really care either way.

I tried to determine whether his parents knew about what he was, but they didn't give me a clue as my mother chatted with them excitedly. My guess was they were completely unaware, and Ethan was just biding his time until he slaughtered them both. Or maybe he didn't want to eat them at all. I wanted to bring it up, but found that I really didn't want to if my father wasn't around. If Ethan cut his losses and ate us, I wanted someone around who could really take him. Even if he was scared of me, in a real fight I wouldn't be able to take him.

I made my way over to Lizzie and Ethan, intent on keeping an eye on him as long as possible.

"Um…hello." Ethan smiled at me as I approached. He tried to hide his nervousness, but I heard it and scowled back.

"Hey," I growled. "'Eaten,' right?"

"It's…Ethan," he corrected lamely. "You have a lovely home."

"Actually, it's my dad's," I said. "You'll meet him soon enough. I'm sure he'll be eager to see you." Lizzie elbowed me hard in the ribs and I cursed under my breath.

"Please excuse my brother," she said. "He's a bit of an idiot who doesn't know how to welcome people. Why don't we go sit down?" With that, she led Ethan away as I glared at her back. Couldn't she see I was just trying to protect her? Did she want to be killed by a hungry bloodsucker?

I followed, even though they had left to get away from me, and sat directly across the table from them. This way I could keep an eye on him and eat at the same time. I could see him glancing nervously at me even while he was talking with Lizzie, and I smirked back. Having a vampire afraid of me was giving my ego an immense boost. I fully intended to take advantage of this fear during dinner.

"Marshmallow Mike!" Everyone looked up as my father entered and gathered the strange blond man into a bear hug. I winced as I waited for the sound of cracking bones, but thankfully dad seemed to be controlling himself much better than usual.

"My dad hates that nickname," Ethan chuckled. "Said he was called that a lot by someone named Jacob Black. Is that your father?"

"Yep, that's him," Lizzie said.

"In all his vamp-shredding glory," I finished. Lizzie kicked my shin under the table.

"It's really nice to see you again, Mike," my mother said, leading Ethan's parents to the table. "And it's wonderful meeting you, Marie."

"Well, it's just nice to put a face to a name," Ethan's mother said, beaming. "My husband talks about you so much. Says you were his best friend. Sounds to me like he was really smitten with you." Ethan's father flushed and sat down quickly next to me. Clearly he was eager to get out of that conversation.

"Dinner will be out in a second," my mother said, disappearing into the kitchen. I turned back to Ethan and Lizzie, intending to eavesdrop on their conversation, but they were talking in whispers so soft I couldn't hear them. I scowled in annoyance and turned to Ethan's father.

"So, Mr. uh…"

"Newton," he said, looking relieved. "Mike Newton. You can just call me Mike."

"I'm Barlie," I said, offering my hand. Mike shook it with a puzzled look on his face. "It's a combination of my grandfathers' names," I explained. "My mother's a little weird. But you probably know that already."

"That I do." Mike grinned. "I knew her for two years before we graduated, then another two years in college. After that, I moved away. She stayed behind because she and your father had just gotten married. I think she was pregnant with you at the time."

"Yeah, she was pretty young when she had me," I said. I think my dad was barely eighteen when I was born, too. They kind of got married in a hurry."

"Well, anyone with eyes could see those two were perfect for each other," Mike said. "He was the only one who could cheer her up after she broke up with Cullen."

"Who?" I asked. I never did get my question answered, though, as mom came through the door carrying a big pot of spaghetti and meatballs.

"Dig in, everyone," she said cheerily, setting it in the middle of the table. For a second, I forgot about keeping an eye on Ethan and grinned at the scent of mom's homemade meatballs. I had yet to find someone who didn't enjoy them. Mom may not have been the greatest cook in existence, but she was decent enough and she could make some things that were completely mind-boggling. She said it was because she had been cooking for my grandparents since she was a teenager, and she naturally grew to love it.

I doled out a large serving onto my plate and dug in. Since she had been in the kitchen most of the day, mom had kept me from sneaking any snacks to eat. As a result, I was hungry, and dug into my meal vigorously.

I noticed Ethan wasn't really eating. He took a few sips of water every now and then and ate maybe a grand total of three spaghetti noodles. He never touched the meatballs, and mostly just played with his food and talked with Lizzie. He glanced up at me once and I narrowed my eyes. Dad told me vampires couldn't eat human food, either. The evidence against him just kept stacking up.

I wondered why my father hadn't done anything about him yet. Then I reasoned that he probably didn't want to make a scene in front of mom's friend. He would tell the other wolves later, and they would dispose of the threat. I seriously doubted I would see Ethan again after tonight. He was living in hours now.

"Ethan and I are going to my room," Lizzie said suddenly. Mom nodded and continued her conversation as the two disappeared. I definitely didn't feel comfortable leaving my sister alone with that monster, so I disposed of my plate and followed after them.

"…think he knows?" I paused right before opening Lizzie's door. I could hear their conversation on the other side. Knowing it was my duty to find out what was going on, I pressed my ear to the wooden door.

"No, he's a complete blockhead." This was Lizzie's voice. "He has no idea. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, but he kept staring at me…" Ethan's voice said nervously. "He suspects something, at least. Why would he hate me so much otherwise?"

"He doesn't hate you, he's just…really, really confused," Lizzie said reassuringly. "Once he gets to know you, he'll come around. No matter what you are. I know my brother and he might be an idiot, but he's not cruel."

"I hope you're right," Ethan sighed. "I really hope you're right." There was silence for a few seconds, then I decided I'd had enough of waiting and knocked. Lizzie opened the door, frowning quizzically.

"What do you want?" she asked. I shrugged.

"Entrance to your clubhouse. Or is it 'no boys allowed'?" Lizzie glared at me and tried to close the door but I held it open.

"If you don't let me in, I'll just stand out here all night," I said. "Your choice, Lizzie. I could go get dad right now." After a moment's hesitation, Lizzie reluctantly let me in.

There were only two places to sit in her room: a beanbag chair on the floor and the bed. Lizzie plopped down in the beanbag chair, so that was out. And Ethan was currently seated on the bed, plucking nervously at the comforter. Since that ruled out both places, I decided to sit on the floor.

"So, what are we talking about?" I asked, a mock smile on my face. Lizzie just glared.

"We were, uh…talking about that new alien movie coming out this weekend," Ethan said. He actually attempted a genuine smile, but it fell flat on his face. "It's supposed to be really good. The critics gave it good reviews."

"They only let the good ones through," I pointed out. "Who knows how many bad ones they held back? There was one that came out a couple years ago that got four stars. That was a piece of crap."

"I think I know what you're talking about," he said. "That wasn't so bad. It had its moments."

"Look, it didn't make any sense, the plot was cliché, and the little creatures looked like a thirteen-year-old did their makeup." I rolled my eyes. "Coming from a Sci-Fi buff, though, this is kind."

"Not everyone's as obsessed with that stuff as you are," Lizzie snapped. "Some people like to go see a movie just for the joy of seeing a movie. Not to rip it apart bit by bit until it's garbage."

"Yeah, well, if they're going to make a Sci-Fi movie, the least they can do is make it so Sci-Fi fans enjoy it," I said. "It doesn't have to be a crowning cinematic achievement, but I really just wish they'd get someone with the slightest shred of talent to make them."

"Oh, you are such a…"

"I agree." Lizzie and I both looked to Ethan, surprised. "I mean, most Sci-Fi movies these days are so watered down because everyone loves romance and only wants to focus on that," he continued. "So those of us who really enjoy those little things are left in the dirt. It doesn't seem fair."

"Exactly." I smirked triumphantly at my sister. "See? I'm not the only one who thinks that way. Just because you would rather watch some mushy romance doesn't mean everyone else does."

"But some can mix the two themes pretty well," Ethan said. "Have you ever read Thief's Flame? It's kind of more fantasy, but I count it. It really mixes good storyline and romance together well."

"Never heard of it," I said, shrugging. "Not really a big romance fan." It dawned on me that I had dropped my guard, which was a very dangerous thing to do. "But I guess your kind like that sort of thing, huh?"

The look on Ethan's face was one of complete shock, like someone had just slapped him in the face. Without a word, he calmly stepped off the bed and left the room.

I frowned after him, puzzled. Had I hurt his feelings? I couldn't see how. By assuming vampires liked romance? How would that hurt anyone's feelings? My confusion only deepened when I noticed Lizzie standing over me, arms crossed and glaring.

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"You…you…insensitive jerk!" she yelled. "You have absolutely no idea what you've done, do you?"

"Uh…no?" I never did get the answer to what I'd done, though, since Lizzie disappeared after him. I followed quickly behind.

"Did Ethan come out this way?" Lizzie asked the parents.

"Yes, he said he didn't feel well," Mike said. "I think he walked home."

"I'm going to go after him," she called, pulling on her jacket and heading for her shoes by the door.

"No, you're not," my mother said. "You heard Mike: he doesn't feel well. And you have school tomorrow, so you're not going anywhere."

"But, mom…"

"No, buts. You're staying here." With that, she turned back to the conversation. Lizzie looked angry as she stormed to her room, glaring at me as she passed by.

"I hope you feel really guilty," she said before shutting the door and locking it.

The funny thing was, I did feel guilty. Even if he was a bloodsucking monster, even if there was no conceivable reason for him to feel hurt…I felt really guilty for what I'd said. The truth was, I had been enjoying our conversation. I rarely ever got to interact with other people my age, let alone other Sci-Fi fans. If I had known it would come to an end so quickly, I never would have said what I did.

The adults were crowding up the couch, so I went to my room and laid down on the floor. It wasn't very comfortable, but it was better than nothing. I tried to convince myself that he deserved to feel bad for trying to move in on my sister, that he was just a soulless monster whom I shouldn't feel the slightest bit bad for. But no matter what I told myself, the truth still remained: I felt lower than dirt.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Uh...hey, guys. Long time no see. ^^;

So here's the thing: this chapter gave me a lot of trouble. It just didn't want to cooperate, so I had to sort of force my way through some of it. So it's a little sucky, but all in all I think it's somewhat of a success. The ending was sort of rushed too. I wanted to take it farther, but I had no idea where I was going to stop it so I just cut it off there. I may add to this, and if I do you'll be informed in the next chapter.

So I've already planned a sequel to this starring everyone's favorite sparkly vampire family. Well, not starring...they take a bit of a backburner, actually. It's gonna take place a few years later. But they're there, trust me. I won't reveal any more.

Thank you to Tomiko90, and to Jellybean for finally reviewing. Hope this update makes you happy!

* * *

I didn't want to feel guilt for hurting Ethan's feelings; he was a horrible bloodsucking monster that I was trying to drive out of town, after all. But for some reason, that didn't stop my gut from twisting every time my sister glared at me the next morning. And man, did she abuse that privilege. She glared when it was my turn for the shower, she glared at me over breakfast, and she glared at me the entire ride to school. If I didn't know any better, I'd say her face had frozen that way.

I still didn't really know what I'd done to offend Ethan, and Lizzie literally wasn't talking. I went over the conversation dozens of times in my head, but couldn't quite figure out just where things had gone sour. It bugged me because, monster though he might be, the fact that Ethan was also a Sci-Fi buff excited me. It was rare for me to meet someone as obsessed with it as I was. As far as I knew, nobody at school was interested in it, or at least not enough to risk hanging around me just for conversation. Lizzie outright loathed it, and told me so constantly. Mr. Yorkie liked it, but he was my boss, not my friend. Besides, it was nice meeting someone my own age who was into Sci-Fi.

I frowned to myself at that thought. What was I thinking? Ethan was probably hundreds of years my senior. He was a bloodsucker, after all, and it was so difficult to tell their age. Besides, what did it matter if we shared a common interest? I was still going to run him out of town if it killed me.

I hadn't had the chance to talk to my father last night. I couldn't tell if he knew what Ethan was or not. He might have been hiding it, not wanting to embarrass mom in front of her friend, but then again I didn't think his nose was very strong when he wasn't a wolf. There was a good chance he didn't have a clue. I definitely had to talk to him about it tonight; I couldn't let it drag on any longer than it already had.

Mom pulled up to the drive at school and pressed a big kiss to my cheek.

"Have a good day," she said, smiling.

"Yeah, yeah." I made a big showing of wiping my cheek, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. I didn't actually mind it so much; nobody would dare say anything to my face in fear of angering me, so I didn't need to be wary of ridicule, and it at least let me know that she loved me. She kissed Lizzie's forehead, then both of us hopped out of the car and waved as she drove away.

I usually hung out with Lizzie before school, but today she disappeared into the building. Still pissed, no doubt. It didn't matter; I still had that book to finish, and I intended to put a big chunk into it by the end of the day. I settled into the back corner of my first-period class, loving the emptiness of the room, and cracked open the book to where my bookmark indicated.

The day flew by in this way. I didn't pay much attention to my classes, instead opting to hide the book under my desk and read the whole time. I found out I had gotten a D on my Math test, and I forgot my homework for Science, but all of that seemed insignificant while I was reading. I was in my own little world, where I didn't notice the whispers, where I wasn't a complete failure in every way, and where I didn't have to think about that bloodsucker all the time.

That's what I told myself, but in truth the whispers still came in loud and clear; all my failures seemed to build up in the back of my mind like a laundry pile; and, try as I might not to, my mind was plagued with thoughts of Ethan. I realized I didn't really know much about him. I knew his name, and the fact that he liked Sci-Fi. I didn't know exactly how old he was, what school he went to, if he had any hobbies, what kind of TV shows he liked…it wasn't like it mattered, but for some reason that knowledge made me feel even worse about the whole situation. I knew I had to apologize sometime, but I didn't even know where he lived. I would have to ask Lizzie sometime soon, but I didn't want my mother to know I'd insulted her friend's son so I would either have to convince her to tell me at school or I'd have to get her alone at home.

When lunch rolled around, I found Lizzie sitting in our usual spot. I was relived, because I thought I'd have to go looking for her. We usually ate together since nobody else wanted to sit with me, but with the way she'd been acting toward me, I thought she might ditch me to go sit with her friends.

"Hey." I grinned as I sat down across from her with my own lunch. She glowered into her bologna sandwich. "Come on, are you still mad at me? Look, I'll go apologize, okay? I just need to know where he lives." She glanced up.

"You promise you'll go apologize, and not just antagonize him again?" she asked.

"Yes," I said sincerely. "I feel really guilty about it, okay? Even if he is a monster, I really do want to apologize."

"When are you going to get it through your head that Ethan isn't a vampire?" Lizzie asked exasperatedly. "He's just a normal kid like you and me. There's nothing evil or monstrous about him. You'd realize that if you bothered to get to know him." She wrote down his address for me on a piece of notebook paper. "I'm going to kick your ass if I find out you were a jerk."

"I won't be," I assured her, taking the slip of paper and sticking it in my pocket. "I promise; I just want to apologize to the guy."

I didn't want to start a fight, but I still thoroughly believed that Ethan was a vampire bent on sucking my sister's blood. If Lizzie wouldn't protect herself by staying away from him, it was my duty as her big brother to protect her. As I pulled out my sandwich and began to eat my own lunch, I was already forming a new plan in my head.

At the end of the day, Lizzie caught up with me. "Are you going to Ethan's now?" she asked. I frowned.

"I'd like to go home first, piranha," I scoffed. That was just like Lizzie to be so impatient. "Is that okay? For me to spend maybe an hour at home before I go rushing off? Will you live with that?"

"Don't make fun of me," she snapped. "You just have a habit of putting things off until the last minute. Ethan deserves to be apologized to before he turns forty."

"You sure do think highly of him," I mused, lifting an eyebrow. I ignored her indignant expression as I hefted my bag over one shoulder and headed for home.

"It's because he's my friend!" she said, rushing to catch up. "That's all, got it? I can be friends with a guy without wanting to date them, you know!"

"I never said any of that," I pointed out. "You're the one jumping to crazy conclusions about wanting to date him. I was just commenting on how you're acting so close when you only just met the guy a few days ago."

"Actually, I've known him for years now."

"Oh?" My eyebrows rose in surprise. "How is that possible? They only moved here recently."

"I found an old email address in mom's desk when I was ten," Lizzie explained. "She said an old friend from high school gave it to her when they graduated. I guess it was that Mike Newton guy. Anyway, I sent an email and Ethan answered. Ever since then, we've been messaging back and forth."

"Really?" I frowned. I had never noticed anything different. "But wait, you didn't know his name when I first met him."

"We used screen names," she said. "I didn't learn his real name until he actually moved here. The bookstore was our first face-to-face meeting, and the first time I actually learned his name."

"And here I thought it was just some random guy picked up off the streets." I sighed. "You could have at least told me you knew him."

"Oh, like that would have gotten you off of your 'Ethan is a vampire' kick!" Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Besides, between you lying to me, and eating, and you working, there wasn't really much time for me to mention it."

She was right; it wouldn't have made me think any differently about Ethan than I did now. Actually, knowing that they'd been talking before only increased my suspicions about his intentions. I'd have to keep a much closer eye on him from now on.

We approached the house and Lizzie ran off to her room. I was a little less formal. I threw my bag on the floor and flopped down on the couch, turning on the TV immediately. I knew I should get over to Ethan's and apologize, but some strange part of me actually cared what he thought about me, and I didn't want to look weird just showing up on his doorstep to apologize for something I wasn't even sure I was in the wrong for.

Lizzie probably thought I forgot about it when I left school, but in reality it was at the forefront of my mind. It was escalating into a bit of an obsession, actually, but above all I could not allow myself to lose face. If I looked foolish in front of him, he could use that to get under my skin and see my true self. If I was going to keep up this intimidating charade, I had to plan everything carefully and not allow a single mistake to slip through.

I wasn't really paying much attention to the TV when the doorbell rang, so naturally I wasn't exactly put out when I went to answer the door.

As soon as I saw the person standing on our porch, the term "Speak of the devil and he will come," sprang to mind. Though, in reality, it was more that I was thinking of the devil. Ethan blinked in surprise and even took a step backward. It took all my will to retain my stoic mask instead of letting my own shock register.

"What are you doing here?" I asked calmly. I wasn't being nasty about it; it was a legitimate question.

"Lizzie and I are seeing a movie," he explained, dropping his gaze. "Is she, uh…here?" I almost smirked in triumph; he was still scared of me, still scared I was able to do something bad to him. The rush of power was almost enough to forget what I needed to do, but I realized that I would just have to do it later if I didn't do it now, and I might as well get it over with.

"Listen," I said, fighting to keep my voice indifferent instead of the sheepish tone it wanted to settle into. Ethan's green eyes slowly rose to meet mine. "I apologize for the other day," I said simply. I knew he knew what I meant, because a smile appeared on his face a second later.

"It's no big deal," he assured. "Don't even worry about it." Something in the way he said it caught my attention. If I looked closely, that smile didn't quite reach his eyes. If I listened, his sincere tone fell flat. Was it possible that what I'd said really hurt him that much?

"Ethan, what are you doing here so soon?" My sister's small form shouldered past me. "The movie isn't for a few more hours."

"Well, I was just sitting at home bored and thought maybe we could go to an earlier showing," he said. "Or should I have called first. Sorry if it's too early."

"No, no, it's fine, I was just planning on taking a shower so if you don't mind waiting…" She smiled sheepishly. "I really stink from school, sorry. You can hang out with Barlie until I'm ready." She shot me a glare as she walked by that was loaded with one word: behave.

I shut the door and led Ethan back to the couch, where I once again casually flopped down. Ethan sat next to me, perched on the edge as if he was going to bolt any minute.

"Hey, loosen up," I found myself saying. It was weird because, as his enemy, I should have been happy to see him so nervous. Instead, I found that it put me on edge too, and I didn't like that one bit.

He leaned back into the stiff cushions and smiled that fake little smile again. It occurred to me that the only time I'd ever really seen him smile was the first day I met him. Even then, I hadn't had time to properly appreciate it, since I was so hell-bent on scaring him. It had only been two days ago, but it felt like a lot had happened lately. I felt like I knew him a bit more than I probably should have.

Ethan was still tense, I noticed, even though he was doing his best to look relaxed. His back was just barely touching the couch, and his fingers kept doing weird little drumming motions on his knee. He hadn't taken off his shoes, and he sat perfectly still in the same position, like he was scared to move even a muscle. His eyes were darting everywhere as if looking for an escape route, and I was reminded of a rat trapped in a small cage. It was disconcerting, sitting next to such a pile of nerves, and it made me sit up straight instead of the relaxed sprawled position I had been previously enjoying.

"I'm not going to eat you, you know." On the contrary, I was worried Ethan was going to eat me. Or worse, my sister. "You really can relax. It's okay."

"I'm just not a very social person," he admitted. "And I don't really know you that well…"

"You seemed fine yesterday when we were talking about Sci-Fi," I pointed out. "If you're so uncomfortable, talk about that. I'll listen."

"You will?" Ethan looked doubtful. "Well…the movie I'm going to with Lizzie today is a Sci-Fi about some aliens who come to earth and become trapped here. I've wanted to see it for a while, and she doesn't really like the genre but she said she'd go with me so I didn't have to go alone."

"Yeah, I heard about that," I said. "It supposedly got some pretty good reviews, but I haven't seen it yet so I don't know how good it is."

"Well, why don't you come with us?" Ethan offered hesitantly. "It'll be nice to have another Sci-Fi fan there instead of someone who will be bored out of her skull."

And then it hit me: the thing my strategy was missing. Ethan was giving me an opening here to spend time with him freely. He was basically inviting me to spy on him. Intimidation had its moments, but if he thought we were friends, then I'd have free reign to do things I couldn't normally do and Lizzie would have no say in the matter.

"I'd love to," I said, flashing my first real friendly smile. Ethan looked shocked for a moment before grinning back. This time it lit up his eyes like lights.

"Thanks," he said, he voice a little less nervous now. "I'm glad you'll be there."

Something in the way he said that seemed strange to me, but before I could say anything about it, my sister, wearing nothing but a towel, appeared.

"Lizzie, put some clothes on," I said, rolling my eyes.

"You invited him to go?" Lizzie asked Ethan, ignoring me. She looked a little disappointed.

"Oh…yeah, sorry," Ethan said, his demeanor instantly shedding like a second skin. "Did you not want him to come along? I just figured maybe he'd want to go, and I did it without thinking…"

"No, it's fine," she sighed. "This buffoon needs to get out of the house every now and then anyway."

"Yeah, it's not like I'm sitting right next to you or anything," I said pointedly. "Thankfully I can't hear a word you're saying."

"Yeah, yeah." Lizzie waved me aside like I was minor annoyance. "I'm going to go get dressed and then we can go. Don't you two get comfortable." With that, she disappeared into her room and it was just Ethan and I once more.

The companionable conversation that we had settled into had faded, but the atmosphere still felt comfortable. Ethan was considerably more relaxed, though I wasn't sure if it was because of me or my sister. Nonetheless, I was glad not to have to sit beside Twitchy McTwitcherson anymore.

Today was the start of what promised to be a beautiful friendship…and a beautiful plan to set in motion.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Eheheheh...so I actually had this done almost ten days ago. The problem was that FFnet was being an asshat and not letting me upload here at the time. So I sort of forgot about it. For anyone actually waiting for it, I apologize. I should be getting up chapter 6 sometime in the next few days if that makes up for it.

This is mostly filler and junk. I suppose it gives some insight into Barlie's character (and by the way the inconsistencies are intentional) and it gives him some interaction time with Ethan. The next chapter will be a little more relevant to the plot, but right now I'm struggling not to just say fuck the whole thing and now do character development. The result would be disastrous, trust me.

Anyway, uh...enjoy.

* * *

"You look calm today."

I looked up from the stress ball I was playing with, not squeezing it but simply throwing it from hand to hand. I tipped my head quizzically.

"Do I?" I didn't feel as angry as I usually did when entering this room, but I didn't know if calm was the right word to describe it.

Mrs. Mavis nodded. "You're usually very tense, but today you seem relaxed. That's a good sign." She sat in her chair across from me as usual and her lips stretched into a wide grin. "Has anything good happened lately?"

"Nothing really out of the ordinary." I decided not to mention Ethan. I didn't want to voice my suspicions about him too soon, and if I started I wouldn't be able to stop. "I guess I've been focusing more on school and work lately. And reading."

"Those are things that make you happy, right?" When I nodded, her hand flew to the pad of paper in her hand to scribble a few words. "Doesn't that seem strange to you? Most people your age are more focused on their social lives than their obligations."

"I suppose when you don't have a social life, it's easy to think of things like that as more than obligations," I said, annoyance creeping into my voice. "The closest things I have to friends are at work and in my books."

"Tell me more about that," Mrs. Mavis said, laying her pad of paper flat on her lap. "About the feeling you get when you read. You've mentioned it a few times, but we've never really delved into it."

I studied the small yellow stress ball in my hand, trying to think how best to answer. It easily fit into my palm, so much that if I made a fist it disappeared. There were a few small rips in the bright surface, and I could see orange fluff underneath, the substance that allowed it to be brutally handled and still keep its round shape. The remains of a faded smile etched in black were still on its surface, the oval eyes reminding me that Mrs. Mavis was still waiting for my answer.

"It makes me feel…whole," I answered hesitantly. "Like a part of me I lost has come back to me. As soon as I start reading, the world around me just fades away, and suddenly I'm in the middle of this place where I don't have fits and people actually like me. I get to do things I would never get to do in the real world, the things I feel I was born to do."

"Is it difficult to discern the stories you read from reality?" Mrs. Mavis asked. "Do you sometimes bring these elements into the real world?"

"No," I said with a bitter smile. "The minute I put the book down I know exactly what's real and what isn't."

"You don't seem too happy about that," my therapist noted.

"Would you be?" I asked honestly. She didn't answer.

"How long has it been since your last fit?" she asked. The air of friendliness she had taken on when she entered the room was gone, replaced with her professional face. If not for her inane ability to switch into such a cold person, I might have actually liked her. She took her job much too seriously.

"Three days," I answered, grimacing at the memory. It had been in the grocery store, when I'd gone shopping with mom. I broke a few jugs of milk, and one of the freezers needed a new door. It had cost a fortune to pay for.

"Would you say it was violent in nature?" Mrs. Mavis asked, pen poised over her paper.

I chuckled humorously. "You could say that. I didn't hurt anybody, though,"

"Did you want to hurt anybody?"

I hesitated, surprised by the question. "I wouldn't…"

"But did you want to?"

The answer sunk my spirits. "Yes…"

Mrs. Mavis scribbled more on her pad of paper. When she looked up, she was peering over the top of her glasses, straight into my eyes. "This violence of yours must come under control before you do serious damage to yourself or others. You know this, right?"

I nodded mutely.

"Then I cannot understand why there has been no progress." Mrs. Mavis sighed in exasperation. "I know you're not a bad kid, Barlie, but you cannot just push this under the rug and pretend it doesn't exist."

"I know," I said through gritted teeth, my temper rising. "Do you think I'm not trying? It's not something I can control."

"You _can_ control it," she said firmly. "It is a part of you, and you can destroy it if you so choose. You can get rid of it the minute you realize that it is able to be gotten rid of. All you need to do is try, and stop hiding behind it."

"I can't!" I exclaimed, feeling hot tears in place of the anger I expected. "I can't do it. Not alone. I can't face it alone."

"You're not alone." I saw her hand reaching for mine and snatched it away.

"I might as well be," I said coldly.

I felt better leaving the session than I had most. I hadn't smashed or broken anything, and I had no external wounds. I even left at the designated time, instead of leaving early and walking home. I smiled in relief as I saw my mother's van waiting in the parking lot. I jumped into the passenger seat and flashed a grin.

"Today went well," I lied. No day ever went well in therapy. "When did you get here?"

"About five minutes ago," my mother said, starting the car and pulling out of the lot. "I waited until the last minute just in case you left home early again. I'm glad you stayed the whole time this time, Barlie."

"Yeah…I guess I was just in a calm mood today." My grin faded to a small smile. "So, what's for dinner tonight?"

"I was thinking fish, but I don't know if we have quite enough for everyone." She shrugged. "If not, I'll wing it. Oh, we're having a guest tonight."

"The Newtons again?" I groaned. Mom seemed obsessed with spending time with them. I guess it was hard to let go of old connections.

"Just one," she chuckled. "Their son, Ethan. Lizzie invited him over after school, and apparently he okayed it with his family to stay the whole weekend. I said it was okay as long as Lizzie kept him out of your father's affairs. Those two have become so close."

"He's…staying the weekend?" I frowned. "You don't think that's a bit weird? I mean, how do we know Lizzie's not doing weird stuff with him? Just because he's your friend's son doesn't automatically make him a good guy."

Mom cast me a strange, sidelong glance. "I don't think he's interested in Lizzie like that," she said slowly. Before I could ask why she thought that, we were pulling into the driveway.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and went to throw it in my room. There was a brand new mattress laying on a box spring on the floor. No frame, since I had damaged that too much to repair, but it was fine. At least it was a bed. At least I didn't have to sleep on the couch anymore.

After ditching my stuff, I feigned my way toward the kitchen, stopping in front of Lizzie's open door. She and Ethan were both sitting on her bed, watching some movie I didn't recognize. I knocked on the door frame to get their attention.

"Hey," I said, grinning for the second time that day. "Mom left your door open."

"Again?" she groaned. "I told her we were just watching a movie. I swear, she must not trust me."

"I guess not," I agreed. I glanced at Ethan to find him staring at me. He quickly glanced away when our eyes met. "Mind if I join you?"

"If you promise to be nice," Lizzie said.

I chuckled. "When am I ever nice?" I asked, shutting the door behind me. I took a seat in her cushy beanbag chair and focused on the TV screen.

I couldn't tell what was going on, probably because I had come in at the middle of the story, but everyone was singing about this and that and there was blood and guts everywhere. Despite that, it seemed almost pleasant, though the dark tinge to every scene seemed to be trying for something completely different. I found myself intrigued despite myself. I'd have to watch this from the beginning.

When the movie ended, I asked, "What was that?"

"Repo, the Genetic Opera," Ethan answered, retrieving it from Lizzie's DVD player. "I brought it over so Lizzie could watch it. It's pretty good."

"I'll say," I agreed. "Any chance I could borrow it sometime?"

"Sure," Ethan said, grinning at me. "Here, catch." He tossed me the DVD case. "Get it back to me whenever. I can lend you the soundtrack some other time if you want."

"That sounds great." I set the movie down beside me. "So I heard you're staying all weekend."Ethan blinked at the abrupt change in subject.

"Yeah," he said hesitantly. "Is that okay?"

"You don't need his permission," Lizzie pointed out. "You're my friend and even if he hates it, you're staying."

"Don't have an aneurism, Liz," I teased. "I wasn't saying anything against it; mom just mentioned it on the ride home. Chill out."

"Yeah, well, with the way you've acted, it just wouldn't surprise me if you thought it was part of some evil plan or something," she grumbled.

"Hey, I've been nice," I said, holding my hands up defensively. "Just ask Ethan."

"He's right," Ethan said, jumping back into the conversation. "He hasn't said a single mean thing to me since he apologized, Lizzie. You don't need to worry so much."

What Ethan didn't know was that I was only being so nice because of my plan. My previous plan of scaring him had worked beautifully, but unfortunately it set my own sister against me and I got no definite information out of it. This new plan, however, just might have been my ticket into revealing Ethan for what he was. I was going to pretend to be his friend, and get closer to him in the hopes that he might inadvertently confess something I could use. Unfortunately, this meant not telling my father about my suspicions, but it was probably better to have hard evidence before I reported what I knew. He was going to be so proud.

One thing I couldn't understand was how nobody else had seemed to notice it. Lizzie flat-out didn't believe me, and my father made absolutely no indication that he even suspected a thing. Ethan had everyone fooled into thinking he was just a normal, gawky teenager, but it was that normalcy that made me sure of what he was. Nobody acted as carefully as he did, as guarded as he did, unless they had something to hide.

My father had told me a long time ago that some vampires had special powers, ones that normal humans couldn't possibly hope to comprehend. I suspected that Ethan's special power was to appear completely normal, or at least to create the illusion of it. I couldn't see any other explanation. It wasn't a terribly exciting power, but it seemed to be proving very useful for him.

"So, Barlie, where were you today?" Ethan asked innocently. My sister and I immediately tensed. I didn't want him to know about that part of me, but what could I tell him? If I changed the subject, it would look like avoidance.

"I was at…um…"

"The Fantasy Club at school," Lizzie interrupted quickly. "They meet every Friday, and Barlie goes all the time." I shot her an appreciative smile.

"Wow, that sounds cool," Ethan said, seemingly fooled by the lie. "I wish there was something like that at my school. Maybe I could come visit sometime?"

"They really don't like students from other schools attending meetings," I said hurriedly. "Sorry, club rules." Ethan looked downtrodden, but I gave a small sigh of relief. It would have been disastrous if he'd found out about my anger issues. Sure, I was pretending to be friends with the guy, but that was so I could find out his secrets, not so he could find out mine. I'd have to be careful with my temper around him. If I ever let him see it, he'd have a weakness against me that I'd never be able to take back.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, making the three of us jump.

"Dinnertime," my mother said. "Come get it if you're hungry."

We all clambered out of the room, Ethan glancing at me as he passed. I flashed him a fake smile, but not before I saw the curiosity in his eyes. So the lie hadn't fooled him. He may not have known what the truth was, but he suspected something. I would have to be extra careful if I wanted to keep him in the dark.

Forcing myself to relax, I slowly made my way into the kitchen to eat my dinner with my mother, my sister, and my worst enemy.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: SOOPER SHORT CHAPTER GUYZ!!! D:

Yeah, so I actually was inspired but I was sort of rushing...because I wanted to finish so I could start on the next chapter, where the FUN begins!! :D

Enjoy the last bit of filler crap!

* * *

Another boring day working in a boring bookstore…okay, that was an exaggeration, but when I had nothing to do I could be bitter. Nobody wanted to stick around the bookstore today, so my work was kept to a very bare minimum, and I knew from experience that if I tried to read on the clock, Mr. Yorkie would give me a lecture.

I sighed, laying my head down at one of the tables, watching customer after customer wander amongst the shelves for what seemed like hours, then leave without buying a single book. Part of me hoped they'd make a mess, just so I'd have something to do, or at least sit down and read a little. I hated slow days.

"Man, you're lazy. Why don't you get up and do a little work?" I glared at my sister, who had appeared next to me while I was busy trying to think of what the best word to describe the annoying way our so-called customers were acting was, and stuck out my tongue playfully.

"You try finding something to do," I challenged. "As a matter of fact, why don't you take my place, and I'll stand around calling you lazy." I stood up straight, stretching out and wincing as my back cracked. "Is it lunchtime already? I didn't expect a day like today to go quickly."

"No, I'm early. Actually, I needed to ask you a favor." She glanced at Ethan, whom I had just noticed was standing behind her. "Uh…I applied for this job a while ago and they want me to come in for an interview. I was wondering if you could hang out with Ethan for a while until I'm done?"

I frowned. What was I, the kid's babysitter? "Why can't he just go with you?" I asked. Or better yet, why didn't he go home?

"That's actually my decision," Ethan chimed in. "I don't really want to be waiting around for hours with nothing to do, and I figured since Lizzie wouldn't be around to go to lunch with you, I could go instead. I won't disturb you from your work, I promise."

"I don't think you need to worry about that," Lizzie said, grinning. "Anyway, I have to go before I'm late. See you two at home." Before I could protest, she was out the door and gone, leaving Ethan and I alone together for what I realized was the first time since that day in the living room.

"Umm…" The blond boy looked around nervously, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt. "I am sorry about this. If it's inconvenient, I'll find some other way to entertain myself until Lizzie's done."

"No, it's fine," I sighed. I didn't particularly want to spend all day with him, but I guess it would be boring eating lunch alone and his company was better than none. Besides, without Lizzie around it was the perfect opportunity to see if I could squeeze a little information out of him.

Ethan sat down in the chair across from me, as on-edge as the day we went to see that movie. Now that I thought about it, he was on-edge at the movie, too. He had sat next to me, and kept fidgeting every five seconds. It had been very distracting, and I had tried to ignore it but by the time the movie was over I realized I couldn't remember what it was about. I had fumed a bit that day.

Ethan always seemed to be this way around me. Picking at his clothes or averting his eyes…I wondered if it was just his normal behavior or if it really was because of me. It seemed a little excessive to me. Maybe he was faking it? It was hard to tell.

The time until lunch passed a little awkwardly. We didn't talk much, since I couldn't think of a single thing to talk about, and I'd never been more grateful to have the shield of a meal.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked, forcing a smile to my face. Ethan fought to match my longer stride, thinking.

"I could go for a burger," he said. "Is that okay with you?"

I nodded. I had been craving a cheeseburger all day, so I definitely wasn't going to complain. "Let's go to 5 Guys."

The restaurant was less crowded than it usually was at this time. I wondered where everyone's customers were going. Was there some secret festival nobody had told me about going on? Ethan and I ordered our burgers and drinks and an order of fries to split, then sat around eating peanuts while they cooked our food.

"Do you come here a lot?" Ethan asked, shelling a few peanuts and popping them all in his mouth at once. I shrugged.

"When I can. It's expensive, but the portions are huge and the food doesn't give you that sleepy feeling some fast food does." I frowned I tried and failed to pull a peanut shell apart, eventually throwing it back into the bowl. "Have you ever been here before?"

Ethan shook his head. "No, I've never even heard about it before."

"Well, I don't really think they advertise," I said, glaring down at my bowl of uncooperative peanuts. "I've never seen a commercial for them, at least. They just sort of appeared, and after that it was all hearsay. I guess it's pointless to waste money if people are going to be coming here anyway."

"Yeah, I guess so." Ethan chuckled at my expression. "You want some help?"

"Be my guest," I said, pushing the Styrofoam bowl across the table. "I've never been able to open these damn things."

"Never?" Ethan cracked a few and dropped the shells back in the bowl, placing the nuts on the table. "It's not that hard, you know."

"Maybe not for someone with small fingers," I grumbled.

Ethan blinked, glancing down at his hands. "My fingers aren't small."

"Compared to mine, they are." I held up my hand, showing off my thick fingers. "It's difficult to do stuff like that when your hand keeps getting in the way of itself."

Ethan smiled. "I guess, but they're good for other things. Bigger hands have more raw strength than hands like mine. I can do more delicate things, but I couldn't throw a decent punch to save my life."

"I think that has less to do with your hands and more to do with you being a pansy," I teased. I laughed as I dodged a peanut.

"I was trying to be serious," Ethan said. Nevertheless, he was grinning.

I had to admit, this was really nice. I didn't go out much, and even when I did it was with my sister or my parents, and very rarely the wolves. It was rare for me to have such a relaxed, friendly interaction, that for a second I forgot about my plan and let myself get caught up in the moment.

Then all at once, I did remember, and I became aware of just how much I had dropped my guard. Mistakes like that could cost me my chance at information or even my life. I couldn't afford to do it again. I had to be alert.

I became aware that Ethan had quieted, and he was staring at his lap like he was thinking of something. I was going to say something, but he beat me to the punch.

"Hey, Barlie?" he asked hesitantly.

"What?" It was so rare for him to call me by name that it put me on edge instantly.

"We're friends, right?"

I frowned. "Right." Wrong. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just…" He sighed. "This is the first time we've actually spent any time alone together, and I know we've only known each other a short time but I feel really close to you, like we've been friends for years. Why is that, I wonder?"

"I don't know." I really didn't. We had only known each other a week, and we'd never had any extended interaction. However, I hoped it meant my plan was working.

"Maybe I'm just desperate," Ethan said. "It's hard for me to make friends, and you're such a cool guy…it's like a dream that you'd even talk to me." He smiled sheepishly. "I guess I'm just trying to say that I really like you."

I was stunned by that. Nobody had ever actually said that to me before; nobody had ever called me "cool." Maybe "cold," or "hot-headed," but never cool. Most people I knew steered clear of me because of my anger. Then I reminded myself that Ethan didn't know about my issues with anger. Would he still think the same way if he knew? Suddenly the idea was a lot scarier than him finding out about my weaknesses.

My mind was still reeling about the conversation through the rest of work, long after Lizzie had picked Ethan back up, and even when I walked through the door at home around 9:00.

When I went inside, I was surprised to see my father sitting on the couch. Not so much that he was still up, but that he was there at all.

"Hey," I said, trying to hide my shock. "You're back pretty early."

"Yes, well…I was hoping to catch you when you got home." He muted the TV and patted the couch next to him. I sat nervously. My father and I didn't often have talks like this alone, but when we did it was always serious.

"Where's everyone else?" I asked, looking around and noticing the house was almost completely dark, save for the glow of the TV monitor.

"Your mother's still at work, and your sister and her friend went to go see a movie," he answered. "I wanted to talk to you, if that's okay. Man to man."

I nodded mutely, even though he wasn't looking at me.

"Mostly, I wanted to apologize for the way I've treated you," he said. "I didn't mean to set you off that day, but…it's frustrating. I hate seeing you suffer through your life because of this thing. I wish I could take it and rip it out of you." He sighed. "Your mother has accepted it and tries to get me to do the same, but it's difficult to see it as a part of you when I know that without it you would be a gentle person. You are so much like her."

"Like mom?" I asked hesitantly, though I knew the answer. "Even mom gets mad sometimes."

"That doesn't stop her from being a gentle person." He sighed again. "Look, I don't want you to think I love you any less because of it. You are my son, always. A few anger issues can't stop me loving you."

"I know that, dad." I stared at my knees, trying to push down the uncomfortable feelings. "I know you and mom still love me, and I promise I'll beat this thing someday. It's just a matter of time."

"Let's just hope that happens before too much damage has been done." He gave a weak smile and ruffled my hair. "Why don't you go to bed? You look tired."

I took that as the cue that the conversation was over and rushed off to my room. I considered reading or getting online or any number of things, but in the end I simply shut off the lights and crawled into bed.

It was a weird day, I decided. First the thing with Ethan, then a heart-to-heart with my dad. Two strange occurrences in one day was enough to overload the brain.

He didn't have to tell me he still loved me; I knew. Sure, he wasn't around that much, and sure, he wasn't very patient with me, but he had his own way of showing he loved me. It was just one of those things that didn't have to be said to be known.

Ethan saying he liked me was a bit of a shocker, though. Having anyone actually want to be around me was a shocker. I wondered if it was a trick. I wondered if he had the same plan as I did, to get close and take me down. More than that, though, I wondered if he was sincere.

It wasn't that I was going to let my guard down around him, but a big part of me began wondering what it would be like if we started acting like real friends. If I let myself have fun with him, maybe I could retain enough normalcy to make real friends. It couldn't hurt as long as I was careful, and it might be nice to be a normal kid for a while.

I decided I would think about it in the morning and finally closed my eyes, allowing the day to end.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: I'd like to get an opinion on the dream sequence if it's not too much trouble. Did it seem dreamy enough? Was Barlie's reaction in the dream appropriate, in your opinion? Was his reaction when he woke up appropriate? Was his flip-flopping attitude appropriate? Do you think the dream was a good way to go about it? Comments are appreciated.

Okay, so this is the longest chapter to date and it's given me so little trouble that I officially dub this my favorite chapter. Weird how chapter 7 is always the turning point in my stories...hell, maybe it is a lucky number. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

* * *

_I'm in my house but it's not my house. Distortion everywhere, everything shifting and changing in an instant of an instant. Pictures on walls leer down at me, things that should be still are moving._

_I move and it feels like floating. Everything weightless, everything fluid. I am like water; no, lighter than water. I am air, pure and simple. I breathe the air which is me and still I'm moving to some unknown location. It is not by my own desire that my formless self moves, but by the desire of whatever madman has their grasp on me. Still, I do not feel the need to run._

_A soft room and a form on a bed. The face and features are so blurred, I cannot tell who it is, but the desire to know grips me strongly. This person, whoever they are, is meant for me. They are waiting for me to do whatever I will._

_I am no longer formless, but I still feel lighter than air as I reach out a hand to caress the unknown face. Fingers reach up to lightly brush mine and the heat which shoots through my body is almost more than I can bear. I fall to the bed to embrace them, but it is not enough; their body feels as light and formless as my own._

"_I want to feel you," I say, though the voice doesn't sound like my own. All at once I'm aware of soft lips and skin and warmth and how did I end up on my back? This person, this person whom my heart beats for and my very being depends on is all that I can see and feel and smell and touch but still I cannot see who it is. I want to know, more than I want to breathe or live._

_I rise up to kiss the nameless lips, over and over as if I could pull a name from their pink depths. "Tell me who you are," I breathe. The lips curl into a smile, a long white finger pressing against the briefly. So it is a secret. This fact does not still the impatience in my heart. I kiss the lips again._

"_I have to know," I insist. The person shakes their head and suddenly I realize they have short blonde hair. I run my hands through it and discover it to be very soft. I pull their head to me and inhale their scent._

_Soft kisses on my neck make me shiver, and a heat pools in my lower belly. Lust grips me more quickly than I had ever felt, encompassing my whole being and bringing this formless person whom my soul was tied to along for the ride. Everything is muddled and dim except for the pleasure as the person in my arms rocks back in forth in a dizzying rhythm. I groan as the pleasure reaches its peak._

"_Ethan…"_

--

I woke with a start with cold sweat soaking through my sheets and something I didn't even want to think about soaking through my boxers. I groaned as I tried to get my bearings and return to the real world, the dream still vividly playing itself over and over again in my mind.

It was early. A glance at the clock told me it was almost 6:00 AM; way too early to be awake on a Sunday. I wanted to go back to sleep, but my mind was reeling. It was either get up or lay around in my own mess for a few hours…and it was a harder decision than some might think.

I tried my best to keep my mind off the dream as I peeled off my boxers and threw them in the hamper, but it was hard when the evidence of it was right before my eyes. Had that really been Ethan in the dream? Ethan, the guy I was trying to take down? Ethan, the bloodsucking vampire I was trying to protect my sister from?

I took a deep breath, but I could already feel myself hyperventilating. This was so fucked up. It was so, so fucked up and I had no idea what I was going to do.

I couldn't let myself freak out, though; nobody was awake now, but if someone woke up and saw me like this I didn't know what I was going to tell them. I couldn't tell them the truth; I couldn't tell anyone the truth. I needed some time to think, but I couldn't do that here. I had to get out of the house and go somewhere I could think properly.

First thing was first, though; I needed to get rid of the evidence. I stripped my sheets and comforter off my bed and threw them in the washer, adding in my underwear for good measure, and quickly jumped in the shower.

As I washed, images from the dream flashed through my head like my eyelids were cheap movie screens. I forced down any arousal I might have had at the mere thought-none, none, there was no arousal, it was nauseating-and scrubbed my skin until it was red.

When I got out of the shower, I noticed it was 6:48. Mom would be waking up in exactly 12 minutes to go to work. Quickly, I threw the laundry in the dryer and pulled on my workout clothes. They weren't exactly clean, but they would do. I was just grabbing my jacket when I heard the bedroom door open. I froze just beside the kitchen.

"Barlie?" I heard my mother's sleepy voice ask. "What are you doing up this early?"

"Just…thought I'd go for a morning run," I said, forcing a grin and all too aware of the high pitch of my voice.

She frowned. "Since when do you run in the morning?"

"Since now, mom." I was feeling more than a little antsy; the front door was mere steps away. "Look, I've got to go. Have a nice day. Love you." I forced myself to walk the short distance to the door instead of sprinting like I so desperately wanted. I opened the door slowly instead of throwing it open, and shut the door behind me as if nothing was wrong and I wasn't having a panic attack in my head. The minute I was outside, however, the façade was over. I jumped the few steps from the porch to the ground and started running.

I ran and I ran until my legs burned, then for good measure I ran some more. I relished the pain and the ache in my lungs as I gulped for air. They kept me from thinking about things I shouldn't, things that shouldn't have even entered my mind. Things that should never have been dreamed, or things that should have been forgotten the minute I woke up.

When I finally couldn't take any more, I let myself collapse in the soft grass under my feet. I was away from town. My feet had taken me deep into the woods around this area. Sometimes the wolves came here, but not very often. They usually hung around the cliffs or the river, so I wasn't worried about them bothering me. I could spend a few hours here alone.

Now that I was alone, I couldn't avoid thinking about the dream. I let myself remember it, little by little, until it got to the part where we'd started…I couldn't even think it. It had been so weird. I knew it had been Ethan-I said his name-but why was his face so blurry? Was it normal in a dream like that?

I groaned and covered my face with my hands. Truth be told, that had been my first experience with that sort of thing. Since most people avoided me, nobody really caught my interest enough for my subconscious to show me that. I just didn't know anybody well enough to think like that. But I didn't know Ethan that well, either. We had only met…a week ago? Had it really been only a week? So why was this happening now?

For that matter, why Ethan at all? I hated the guy. He was a bloodsucking monster that threatened everything I knew and loved. I was trying to protect Lizzie from him…

I gasped, sitting up straight. Lizzie. I had completely forgotten about her. Mom would have left by now, and dad wouldn't be far behind. Unless he already knew…but he didn't seem to have a clue about Ethan. He certainly hadn't told me if he did.

I couldn't leave my sister alone with that monster, even if I wouldn't be able to look Ethan in the face. I couldn't let my own discomfort get in the way of my duty. I absolutely had to go back.

Reluctantly, I stood. I groaned as I noticed my legs were already starting to become sore. That was what happened when I did too much too soon. It was a stupid mistake to push myself like that, even if I was freaking out.

I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that I had to walk the whole way back-or that I was hopelessly lost for a good hour-but as anxious as I was to get back and protect Lizzie, I was just as relieved that facing Ethan would be delayed.

I entertained fantasies of locking myself in my room when I got home and just staying out of his way. As long as they didn't leave the house, I could keep an ear out for anything suspicious. That dream was shattered, though, when I walked inside the house and found Ethan and my sister on the couch with bowls of cereal watching TV. They glanced up, and I forced myself to avoid Ethan's gaze.

"Um…good morning," I said.

"Morning," Lizzie said slowly. "You're up early."

"Just, you know…couldn't get back to…felt like a…um…yeah…" I was all too aware of my babbling as I avoided my sister's curious frown and escaped to my room.

I took a deep breath as I closed my door, trying to stop my heart from racing a hundred miles an hour. This was bad. If I went out there like this, they would know something was up. Ethan may have been a soulless monster, but he wasn't stupid. He'd either figure out the truth or come to the wrong conclusion that I was afraid of him. Both conclusions would be disastrous. I had to calm down or stay in my room all day, and though the thought was very tempting I knew I couldn't actually do it. It would be suspicious, first of all, and second of all my hearing wasn't that great. I wouldn't be able to tell what was going on even if I strained to listen. I had to grit my teeth and bear with this.

A knock on my door almost made me jump out of my skin.

"Hey…are you okay?" It was Lizzie's voice; at least fate wasn't being too cruel to me. "You seem a little jumpy today."

"I'm fine," I lied, quietly locking the door. The last thing I needed was her coming in here and asking questions. "I think I'm on the verge of an attack, so I'm going to calm down a little before I come out of here, okay?"

"Okay…" Lizzie didn't sound convinced, but I soon heard the sound of her feet padding on the carpeted floor, making her way back to the living room. I sighed in relief as I leaned against the door and slowly slid down to the floor. I didn't want to lie to her, but I needed more time.

"Pull it together, Barlie," I whispered to myself. Though I'd had the dream several hours ago, it was still as vivid in my mind as the moment I woke up. I groaned and buried my head in my knees, trying to think of something, anything else.

I looked up and spotted my book sitting right where I'd left it on my desk. Reading always helped me through tough situations, and while I'd never had to deal with anything like this before, it was worth a shot. I crawled onto my bed, free of sheets or blankets or even pillows which I'd just realized I'd thrown on the floor in my panic, and snatched the book.

I was only a few chapters away from the end, so it wasn't long before I'd finished and set it aside, but it had done its magic. I was much calmer than I had been before; my heart rate had gone down considerably. The dream seemed like a faraway thing; or rather I was far away from it. I wasn't part of the world where people had wet dreams about their enemies, but instead I was part of the world of fantasy and sci-fi and things that always seemed serious but in the end never really were.

Feeling much better about the situation, I unlocked my door and finally joined the others out in the living room.

Or I would have, if they were there. At first I thought they'd gone out, which would have been bad, but then I heard someone in the kitchen and peeked inside. Lizzie was pulling plates down from the cupboards, and jumped when she noticed me standing in the doorway.

"Oh, hey Barlie," my sister said, smiling. "You scared me. Are you okay now?"

"Yeah, I calmed down a lot," I said, proffering a large grin. "Not to worry, I'm back to my old self again."

"That's why I'm worried," Lizzie said, sticking out her tongue. "I was actually just about to come get you. I'm making lunch and thought you might like some."

"Please," I said enthusiastically, sitting down at the small kitchen table where Lizzie was setting bowls. Having skipped breakfast, I was starved. "Hey, where's Ethan?" I asked, noticing his lack of presence.

"He wanted to take a quick shower before we ate," she said, shrugging. "I don't know why. He can be kind of weird sometimes."

"Yeah," I agreed, "But if you didn't like him, you wouldn't hang around him, right?"

"I guess that's true." Lizzie pulled a few cans of soup from the pantry and poured them in a pot, stirring them with a wooden spoon. From her spot at the stove, she asked, "Speaking of Ethan…what do you think of him?"

I frowned. I couldn't tell her what I really thought of Ethan. I couldn't even think of that. If I thought about it too much, I might…

"What do you mean?" I asked, frowning in what I hoped was a puzzled way.

"I mean…" Lizzie sighed. "You haven't been on that 'Ethan is a vampire' kick lately, and I was wondering if maybe you were starting to like him."

_This person, this person whom my heart beats for…_

"I don't know about that," I said dryly. "He's not as bad as I thought, but liking him? I don't think so."

"Oh, yeah? I think you're just too scared to admit it." Lizzie frowned. "Why do you have to fight against it so hard? He tells me all the time about how he admires you, and the talks you guys have when I'm not around. You know I'm not an idiot, Barlie."

"No, but I don't think it's any of your business," I snapped. I didn't mean to, but the dream was coming back and the agitation with it. "It's just…you don't need to push things all the time."

"Okay, okay," Lizzie said, shrugging. "I won't interfere, but I think you should give it some thought."

"Yeah, yeah, just serve me some lunch, woman." I had meant my words to come out playfully, but there was a shakiness to it that I couldn't hide. Lizzie turned from the soup to stare at me.

"Hey, are you…?"

"Lunch ready yet? I'm starved." Ethan joined us in the kitchen suddenly, dressed in jeans and a plain t-shirt, still towelling his hair dry. He smiled when he spotted me and I thought my heart would stop in my chest. "Good morning, Barlie. Or, well…it's noon now, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's why we're having lunch," Lizzie teased. "Do me a favor and grab the bowls, will you?"

"Sure." Ethan draped the towel over his chair and leaned across the table to grab my bowl, stacking it on top of the others before taking all three to my sister to ladle soup into. When he'd come close, I caught a whiff of his scent and had to bite my lip to keep from groaning. It was the same scent from the dream, exactly how my subconscious had imagined it.

I stared at his back as he made sandwiches at the counter, wondering what else would be the same. Was his hair as smooth as it had felt? If I ran my fingers through it, would it feel like silk? Would his lips be as soft if I kissed them? Would they make me melt the way they had in the dream?

I resisted the urge to grip my head and scream. This was insane. I couldn't honestly be thinking this, could I? It was just a dream, nothing more. Nothing would be the same because they were fabrications. And even if they weren't, it didn't matter. I'd never get close enough to him to find out any of the answers. I had to stop thinking about this stupid dream.

I was startled out of my thoughts when a bowl and plate were set in front of me and I glanced up at Ethan's smiling face. I couldn't deny the stutter my heart made when I saw that face. Was that because of the dream too?

"Don't get up or anything, Barlie," Lizzie said sarcastically, sitting down across from me. "Just make Ethan and I do all the work while you zone out."

"It's fine," Ethan assured her, fetching his own food and sitting down between us. I was uncomfortably aware of how close he was. If I wasn't careful, our knees would brush.

"So, Barlie, where did you go this morning?" Ethan asked, digging into his lunch.

"A run," I said simply, forcing my eyes to remain on my plate as I stuffed my mouth with bologna sandwich. I wasn't hungry anymore-my stomach was tying itself into too many knots for that-but if my mouth was full I wouldn't have to answer any questions.

"I'm surprised you were up before noon," Lizzie teased. I grunted in reply, wanting to finish this conversation and meal as soon as possible.

"I kind of admire your dedication, though," Ethan said. "Getting up that early just to run…I would never be able to do that." I almost laughed at that; if he only knew.

"If you eat that fast, you're going to choke," Lizzie said as I stuffed the rest of the sandwich in my mouth. I shrugged and started into the soup. At this point, I would probably welcome it.

Though I fought valiantly to keep my eyes trained on the brownish soup, my eyes began wandering up before I realized it. Ethan and Lizzie were talking about something I wasn't listening to, and my eyes were drawn to his mouth, the rhythm of his steadily moving lips almost hypnotic.

_Soft kisses on my neck make me shiver…_

I small shudder passed through my body as I remembered, and I had to firmly remind myself that it never happened. It was a dream, a completely stupid meaningless dream that I needed to stop thinking about but I wondered…wondered what he would taste like. I hadn't tasted anything in the dream, so I would be flying blind on that front, but I still wanted to know. Even though I knew how wrong it was, at the same time I wanted to know.

The strong urge to close the short distance and kiss him gripped me, but I squashed it down and tried to return to my soup. I couldn't concentrate, however, and ended up throwing most of it away.

"Where are you going?" Lizzie asked as I tried to make a quick getaway.

"My room," I grunted, pushing through the swinging door. I hoped they would take the hint and leave me be, but no such luck. Even worse, it wasn't Lizzie who followed me.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ethan asked, practically jogging after me. I suppressed a groan.

"Fine," I lied, striding quickly down the hall to my door. If I could just get inside, everything would be okay.

"You're not fine." Ethan blocked my doorway, arms crossed. I was a bit surprised by the appearance of a less timid Ethan, but that surprise soon gave way to anger.

"Move," I growled.

He shook his head. "I'm pretty sure I'm what's making you upset, and I need to know what to do to make it right." I had to hand it to him: he was pretty sharp. Well, that or I was really bad at hiding things.

"There's nothing you can do," I said, reaching for the door handle. He blocked me.

"I'm not going to let you in here until you tell me," he said, but I could tell his resolve was wavering. I reached forward to push him out of my way, but stopped short. If I touched him, I would think of the dream again.

"Move," I said shakily. "Please, move." I no longer cared about saving face in front of him; I just needed to get to my room.

Ethan shook his head again. "I'm not moving until I can help."

I couldn't take it any longer. The dream and everything that came with it, along with my desire to get away from it all, made something in me snap. Almost without even thinking about what I was doing, I leaned down and kissed him.

It wasn't a very good kiss, more of our mouths crashing together than anything. The only thing I could taste was maybe a little blood, and it was so brief I couldn't tell if his lips were soft at all. It achieved one result, however, in clearing the way to my room. Ethan stumbled away in shock, allowing me to open the door, slip inside and lock it.

I leaned my forehead against the door, too close to hyperventilating for comfort. I was half-afraid Ethan would try to say something to me through the door, but luckily I didn't hear a thing. I didn't know how long he stayed out there-the sound of my heart beating in my ears drowned out all other sounds-but I liked to think that he went away somewhere I'd never have to see him again. If only I were so lucky.

I crawled onto my bare bed and curled up in a little ball. I stayed that way until the next morning.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: This was my gift for my friend's 19th birthday, but now that she's read it I can release it to the world!

I love how it just flowed when I sat down to write it. This chapter gave me no difficulty at all. I intended to be mean and drag Ethan's heart along the ground for a few more chapters, but I eventually decided to just do the plot instead.

The way this is going, I wouldn't be surprised if it only lasted less than ten more chapters. For those of you saddened by this, there will still be a sequel! And yes, I'm planning on sticking with this all the way through. I will not abandon it. Sorry if I worried you by not updating for so long.

Hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

The whole week following the kiss could be described as the worst in my life. I barely slept, fearing I'd have more of those dreams, eating with my family had become a chore, and there wasn't enough to keep me occupied so I could keep my mind off the memories that assaulted my brain without mercy. Sitting up at night was the worst. There were only so many books on my shelf, and I found that in a night where I didn't sleep I could polish off a good 500-page novel before the sun came up.

Lizzie and mom made no attempt to hide their worry from me, and every day they tried to wring the reason for this behavior out of me. I eventually started avoiding them altogether, going straight to my room after school and sneaking out at night for food when the hunger became too much. I ate in the bathroom at lunchtime so Lizzie didn't have the chance to corner me, and took the back exit out of the school so she couldn't get to me there.

To tell the truth, I was getting pretty tired of having to go through all this trouble. I could only hope Ethan had kept his mouth shut, and I wasn't doing all this in vain.

Speaking of Ethan, he hadn't visited the house since the weekend he stayed over. I didn't know if it was because of me or not, but I was glad at least that I didn't have to try to avoid him. Maybe I was lucky, and his family moved again. I didn't really believe it, but I held onto the hope that I would never see him again and therefore never have to deal with whatever had happened on Sunday.

By the end of the week, I was so desperate just to get the ordeal out of my head that I asked out a random girl from one of my classes. I must have looked awful from the lack of sleep, and with my reputation I didn't blame her for her reaction. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, afraid to say yes or no and hyperventilating so much I thought she would pass out on the floor in front of me. Finally I just told her it was a joke and walked away. I hadn't really been serious—I didn't even know her name—I just wanted a distraction to get me through the weekend.

At least one good thing came of this: I hadn't had an attack all week.

When Friday rolled around and I had to see Mrs. Mavis, part of me was a little glad. I had to talk to somebody about this. It was building up inside me so much that I felt like I would explode from it. If I was going to tell anyone, it might as well be someone who was paid to listen.

I settled down in the settee across from Mrs. Mavis, noticing for the first time just how comfortable it was. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep, but the urge to lean back and close my eyes was very strong. I almost did until she started talking.

"Your parents have expressed some concern over your behavior this past week," she said. "They say you haven't been eating or sleeping and that you're avoiding everyone."

I bobbed my head slowly. "Yeah…well, I have been eating, just not with them. I sneak food while everyone else is asleep."

"I see." Mrs. Mavis pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and looked up at me. "Do you want to tell me what's prompting this behavior?"

I felt fear suddenly grip me as I thought about what I was going to say. What would Mrs. Mavis think about all of this? Would she shun me like I was so sure my family would if they found out? I was so confident when I came in, so ready to blurt out everything, that I forgot why I had to keep it a secret in the first place. I pressed my lips together nervously and pulled my legs up to hug them to my chest.

"You don't want to say?" she asked gently. I shook my head. It was my secret, and I didn't have to tell if I didn't want to. Not even to her. Mrs. Mavis sighed and wrote something on her pad of paper.

"Is there anything you _would_ like to talk about?" she asked in that same gentle voice. I chewed my bottom lip and decided I could say a few things without giving away the whole story.

"I asked out…a girl in my class yesterday," I said hesitantly.

"Oh? And what did she say?"

I chuckled humourlessly. "No, of course. Well, actually, she was too scared to say no so I just said it was a joke."

"I see." I thought I sensed pity in her voice, but when I looked up she was as cold as ever. "How does that make you feel, when your classmates are afraid of you?"

I shrugged slowly. "I don't know…sad, I guess. Sad that they all have a reason to be afraid of me so much."

"Have you thought about what I said last week?"

"Yes," I lied, though I remembered it well. Her claim that I could get rid of this any time I wanted still felt like a huge joke to me. "I still can't face something like this alone. I just wish…there was someone out there who loved me, who wasn't obligated to love me." I sighed and cut Mrs. Mavis off before she could say anything. "I mean, I know my parents and my sister love me and I know it probably has nothing to do with obligation, but…they're my family and it feels like they're supposed to love me. Nobody else is willing to get close enough to me and I think, maybe, that's the reason I've never been able to beat this thing, because I'm so angry at the world for judging me." The realization surprised even me, as I'd honestly never thought of it that way before.

Mrs. Mavis nodded almost approvingly and scratched a few things down on her notepad. "Is there anyone you wish would love you?" she asked. "Someone outside of your family?"

Almost immediately, Ethan came to mind, and I felt my face heat up. I didn't want to tell her about the dream I had about him, about how every time I saw him now my heart raced, how it was because of him that I had ceased acting like a human being. I tightened my hold on my legs, squeezing so hard that I heard my knees creak.

"Ah, I see," Mrs. Mavis said knowingly. To my surprise, she set her pen and paper aside. "Is this person by any chance the reason you've been acting so weird the last week?"

I didn't say anything, lowering my gaze to the frayed bottoms of my jeans, but apparently that was answer enough.

"Whatever you tell me will not leave these walls, Barlie," Mrs. Mavis assured me. "I won't tell your family anything you don't wish for me to tell them. You can trust me."

Part of me didn't believe her, but another part, a much bigger part, wanted to believe what she said was true. I wanted to spill everything and finally tell someone so maybe it wouldn't eat me up so much inside. For a few moments, I pondered over the decision, before finally deciding I had to do it. Keeping it locked up wasn't doing me any good, and as long as my family never found out…what did I really have to lose?

I took a deep breath before launching into my story. "My sister's friend, Ethan, stayed over this weekend. I don't really like the guy much; I think he's after my sister." I didn't tell her I thought he was a vampire; the last thing I needed was her thinking I was crazier than I was. "So I really didn't like that he was over, but I tolerated him.

"Well, something weird happened on Saturday night," I said slowly. I was faltering now, losing confidence. "I had…a dream about him. A really weird, confusing dream that I couldn't get out of my head."

"A wet dream?" Mrs. Mavis asked, and my face heated up at how casually she said it.

"Yeah…one of those." I bit my lip. "I tried to forget about it, but I started…noticing him after that. I tried avoiding him, but he wouldn't leave me alone. On Sunday night, I…kissed…him." I buried my face in my knees.

I didn't see Mrs. Mavis' reaction, but she was quiet for a few moments and I was sure she was as disgusted with me as I was with myself. I was sure she was going to kick me out of this office, tell my parents immediately, and get me disowned. They'd tell the whole town, and I'd lose my job, and everyone would hate me even more than before. Even the wolves wouldn't talk to me anymore. I'd be a bum with no friends and nobody in the world. Why did I have to open my big mouth? Why?

I flinched as I felt a weight next to me on the settee. Was she going to hit me? I was sure I deserved it. I braced myself for the blow but was surprised to find warm arms encircling my shoulders. I looked up sharply.

"W-what are you doing?" I asked dumbly. Mrs. Mavis' arms tightened.

"You just looked like you needed one," she answered, chin resting on my shoulder.

I frowned. "But…why? Aren't you disgusted with me?"

Mrs. Mavis chuckled and for a second I felt a surge of anger. Was she trying to make fun of me?

"It's times like these that it's hard to maintain a professional distance," Mrs. Mavis admitted. "I'm not supposed to get involved with my patient's lives or pity them, or feel anything for them. My job is to help them with their problems while somehow pretending I don't have a heart. I suppose it's a lot like your books, Barlie. While I'm here, I'm immersed in these people's lives, but when I leave I have to pretend like they don't matter and move on with my own life. I suppose it's probably to protect my own sanity, but when I get people like you, who are so lost and confused in life, it's so hard to remember that I'm not allowed to comfort you in this way." She sighed. "I suppose rules are meant to be broken, though."

I sat on the settee, stunned. It had never honestly occurred to me that Mrs. Mavis was anything other than a cold, unfeeling person. I had assumed she didn't care while she sat in her chair and scribbled on her paper. I thought she was just doing her job, and that she was only there for her money. The fact that it was her _job_ restricting her in this way was nothing short of shocking news, and for the first time ever I managed to see Mrs. Mavis as a person instead of just my therapist that I hated.

She remained on the settee for the rest of the session and we talked about everything and nothing. I learned that she was widowed and had two sons: one of them in college, the other in middle school. Their names were Billy and Jeff. Her husband's name had been Dwayne, and the two had met during college while they were both working on their Master's degree in Psychology. He died in a car crash a few years after Billy was born, and Mrs. Mavis had a break down shortly afterward that her sons helped pull her through. She decided that she'd devote her life to her sons and helping them get places in the world, so she still wore her wedding ring and referred to herself as Mrs. I thought that was a shame, since she wasn't an unattractive woman.

She managed to coax me into telling her about Ethan, about how scared I was that I liked him; how terrified I was about my family's reaction; my suspicions on his intentions toward my sister. I still left out the part about him being a vampire; she wasn't supposed to know about that world, and she probably wouldn't believe me anyway.

Before I knew it, our session was up and I felt better than I had in days. I was actually looking forward to next week. As I grabbed my jacket and began to pull it on, I felt Mrs. Mavis' hand on my shoulder.

"One more thing," she said. "Dreams that involve sex don't necessarily mean you're sexually attracted to that person. The official interpretation is simply that you want to become closer to that person." She smiled kindly. "However, I think you should search your own feelings on the matter, and come to your own conclusion. Only you can know how you feel, Barlie."

I nodded slowly and turned to give her a hug. "Thank you, Mrs. Mavis," I said quickly, before hurrying out the door.

I was a little surprised to find mom's van sitting in the parking lot, but I jumped in with a huge smile and she seemed relieved that I wasn't trying to avoid her.

"I take it your session went well?" she asked, started the car and making her way out of the lot.

"Yeah…it went great," I said, leaning my head back on the leather headrest. I wanted to close my eyes, but I forced myself to stay awake until I could get home and sleep in my own bed. "I think I'm going to take a nap when we get back. Is that okay?"

"That's fine, Barlie." My mother's smile widened. "Do you want me to call you when dinner's ready?"

"Yeah," I said, deciding I wanted to actually eat dinner with my family tonight. "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting lately."

My mother reached over and squeezed my hand in her smaller one. "Just as long as you're happy now," she said. "You don't have to tell me why you were acting like that, but you have no idea how good it is to see you smiling again."

I didn't tell her how good it felt to _be_ smiling again, because I felt like I didn't need to tell her. I felt like she knew already. Mom and I had always had that sort of bond, where we seemed to know what the other was thinking. Maybe that's why I felt so relieved I didn't have to life to her anymore; hurting her hurt me too.

I felt on top of the world as I trudged sleepily into the house. My limbs were weighed down with tiredness, but it was a good sort of tiredness, like the type you get after playing a particularly rough game. Me, I felt like I'd just fought off a storm, and this tiredness felt comforting in a way. I didn't feel like I'd have unwanted dreams if I slept, and I didn't feel like anything bad would happen at all. I felt like this would be a reward for a job well done, and I knew I would come out the other side okay.

As I opened the front door and took in my surroundings, I felt my good mood crash. Ethan was there, sitting on the couch with his hands in his lap. When he saw me, he stood up as quickly as if someone had stuck a hot iron to his backside.

"Hey," he said, trying to smile but instead grimacing. "I wanted to talk to you…is that okay?"

I could tell he was taking in what a mess I was, and I didn't know what conclusion he was coming to, but I immediately felt self-conscious under his gaze. I looked around to my mother for help, but she only gave me an encouraging smile and pushed past me to the kitchen. Lizzie wasn't even around to divert his attention; all of it was on me. I knew there would be no getting rid of him this time, and there were some things that had to be said, so I grudgingly led him to my room and closed the door.

He sat down gingerly on the bed, looking as if he was ready to bolt at any second. I sat down at the head of it, and I was sure I had the same look. I certainly felt that way.

"So…what did you want to talk about?" I asked, although I already knew the answer to that. I just couldn't stand the silence anymore.

Ethan picked at the left knee of his jeans, keeping his gaze carefully away from me. "Last week…" he said hesitantly, "You…kissed me."

I bit my lip and drew my knees up to my chest, using them as a sort of shield. "I-if you could call it that," I said, my lame attempt at a joke falling flat on its face.

A small smile quirked at Ethan's lips and he glanced over at me. "Why?"

I don't know what possessed me, but I told him the whole thing. About the dream; about my tortured morning; about trying to calm down with the book; about my failure after seeing him again; every little thing. I told him about how I couldn't stop thinking about him, how I wondered if his lips were soft or how he smelled. I even told him about the last week: how I couldn't sleep and avoided my family because of my fears.

After I was done, he was silent. Unable to take the quiet, I said: "My therapist says sex dreams just mean you want to become closer to someone. So I might not…actually like you. There's a good chance this will all fade away after a while, so you don't need to worry about it."

I expected him to be relieved by the news, but instead his head snapped up and he looked horrified. "Fade away?" He looked like he might cry. "But, I thought…everything you said, you didn't just make that up, did you?"

I shook my head slowly. "No, but it might just be a side effect from the dreams. Or I might just be looking too much into it. I don't really know."

A hand touched my cheek and suddenly I was looking straight into Ethan's eyes. They were hard, determined, and I realized I had never really seen them this close before.

"How do you feel, right now?" he asked. "If you don't feel anything, then it was probably just the dream and this will pass. But if you _do_ feel something…I'd like you to tell me." I could tell his confidence was wavering, and that he was really scared to death. I could feel his pulse through his fingertips, pounding out a rhythm with my own. I felt both calm and scared to death, if that were possible, and I felt like someone was squeezing my heart to death in my ribcage.

"My chest…feels weird," I told him. "I don't know how to describe it. I've never felt this before."

Ethan looked relieved and lowered his hand. I was sad to lose its warmth. "You like me," he said. "I was so scared for a minute, but you really do."

I was stunned that he had come to such a conclusion. "How do you know?"

"It's not my first time liking someone," he chuckled. "What you're describing is exactly how I feel every time I look at someone I'm attracted to." He bit his lip. "It's how I feel…every time I look at you."

To say I was shocked would have been an understatement. "You…like me?" I spluttered, unsure how I should take the news. He nodded and moved a bit closer.

"I didn't really plan on telling you," he explained. "I just wanted to be your friend. But…the first time I saw you, I knew. I had no idea you felt the same."

"Neither did I," I said honestly. Could that really be the reason I had been so obsessed with Ethan? Not because I thought he was a vampire, but because I liked him? Could Lizzie have been right about him all along? I became immersed in my thoughts so much that I didn't notice Ethan looming closer.

There was really no warning, though I suppose there didn't need to be. Ethan's lips were as soft as I had dreamt they would be, and so warm I thought I would melt. All my previous worries—what my parents would think, being hated by the whole town—seemed to fade away under those lips. Whenever I thought of my first kiss, it would be this, and not that sad attempt outside my door, that would come to mind.

Though I didn't want to stop, my tiredness rudely interrupted the moment and made me aware of it. I couldn't fight it anymore, no matter how much I wanted to. I broke the kiss and my head found its way to Ethan's chest, where I could hear his heart beating steadily in my ear. I both heard and felt him say something, but I couldn't say what as the steady lullaby of his heartbeat finally dragged me down into the world of sleep.


	9. Chapter 9 REWRITE

AN: I rewrote chapter 9!! I was having difficulty with chapter 10 and I realized it stemmed from the fact that I was taking Barlie COMPLETELY out of character. That's been fixed, and now he's back to his hard-headed, idiotic, overthinking self. He cooperates so much more this way, and he's just so much more fun to write than the timid version I was trying to spew out.

Chapter 7 and 8 have him a little out of character too, but I'm going to pass those off to circumstance because I really don't want to go back that far. Anyway, enjoy this redone chapter!

* * *

I managed to avoid talking to Ethan for a while, which wasn't difficult because he never came over. Lizzie had started going over to his house, which was good for me, if not a bit lonely.

After not sleeping the whole week, I spent the entire weekend in slumber land, with maybe a few breaks to eat and go to the bathroom. It was a pretty good deal, actually getting permission to sleep part of my life away. Mom even let me stay home on Monday, which I wasn't complaining about. I spent the day eating, watching TV, and sleeping some more. By the time Tuesday rolled around, I was well-rested.

By that time, I had also come to the decision that what had happened when I came home on Friday was just another weird dream. I didn't know just how much of it was a dream, but the kiss definitely was. And probably the confession too, though the only way to confirm that would be to ask Ethan about it and that was not going to happen. Mom assured me that Ethan had been over, though, so I knew at least that had happened. I wondered if that was the reason he was avoiding me. Had I said something weird while in my sleep-deprived state?

Not that I was worried. After all, I still thought he was vampire scum. These dreams were nothing to worry about, either; Mrs. Mavis had already told me what they meant, and I wasn't going to worry about them anymore. The desire to get close to him was probably just because I wanted to expose him for what he really was. I would eventually, and we'd see who had the last laugh.

I felt a little guilty just letting Lizzie go over there, but since she always came back fine I didn't let it bother me. If he wanted to just suck her blood, he had plenty of opportunity to do so. He seemed to have some other plan in mind, and until he made another move all I could do was watch him. This was difficult without having any interaction, but since I asked Lizzie about him every time she came back I felt like I wasn't missing out on much. I was pretty good at reading reactions, and Lizzie seemed as normal as ever, so in that respect I probably had nothing to worry about.

Through the week, as I said before, I managed to avoid talking to him. While it wasn't exactly beneficial in the long run, it gave me some time to think about my next move. I had to get back in his good graces, but I didn't know what had happened when he came over on Friday. I asked Lizzie, but she said he hadn't told her a thing. It was frustrating, but it only confirmed what I already knew to be true: I had to try and trick him into telling me himself.

Vampires were clever, but as far as I knew he was still afraid of me. If I could find a way to use that to my advantage, I could make him tell me without ever revealing that I didn't know. I would have to, since if he knew I couldn't remember he would probably use that as an advantage to try and trick me. I would have to tread carefully on this plan, so I'd have to wait for the absolutely opportune moment.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

"Ethan wants you to come over today," Lizzie said, sitting down across from me with her lunch tray. I paused with my bologna sandwich halfway to my mouth.

"Why?" I asked, suspicious at the sudden invitation and the definite "you," instead of "us."

Lizzie shrugged. "He said he wanted to talk to you about something and it was best to get it over with before he lost his nerve. He wouldn't say anything else."

I felt my blood run a little cold at those words. Did he finally realize I was a threat? Was he going to finish me off for good? If that were true, he could just follow me and catch me unawares in some dark alley. That might be less suspicious. Then again, maybe it was less suspicious to invite me over and then just act innocent when I didn't come back home. Nobody would suspect that he was guilty of the crime, not even Lizzie. Even if they found my blood-drained corpse somewhere in a ditch just outside of town, suspicion would never turn to the shy new kid. Nobody would know, and then the whole town would be vulnerable to his bloodlust.

"Are you okay?" Lizzie asked when she noticed me practically hyperventilating over my thoughts.

"Yeah," I lied, trying to calm myself down by shoving bologna in my mouth. It didn't help; it might as well have been cement for all I could taste of it, and its only purpose seemed to be almost choking me to death. When I managed to swallow it in a painful lump, I realized that I probably should have just let it kill me. It probably would be a more pleasant death than whatever Ethan had planned.

"So, are you going to go?" Lizzie asked, unaware of my internal torment.

I thought about it for a second. On the one hand, there was a fairly high chance of me dying a horrible and unfortunate death. On the other, if I didn't go, he would probably come to kill me in my sleep anyway. And if this wasn't some horrible plot to end my life, which was a slim chance but a chance nonetheless, I could try out my plan to find out just what happened Friday. Either way, not going wasn't really an option, and if I was going to meet my doom I figured it was best to meet it head-on anyway.

"Yeah, I'll go," I said, a bit reluctant despite my decision. Even if I didn't exactly have the best life, I liked living it, and I wasn't in any hurry to stop. "Can you do me a favor and tell Dad where I am?"

"Okay, but why?" Lizzie asked suspiciously.

"We had plans for tonight," I said, even though that was a huge lie. I really just wanted him to know where I was if something happened to me. I knew he wasn't stupid; he'd figure it out and keep the town safe. I regretted not telling him about Ethan sooner, but that was my own fault and I had to accept the consequences of keeping my mouth shut.

"So, where does he live, anyway?" I asked, upon realizing I had never once visited.

"I gave you the address a couple weeks ago," Lizzie reminded me. "Don't tell me you lost it already."

I felt in my back pocket and triumphantly pulled out a crumpled bit of paper. "Looks like not," I said, unfolding it just to make sure. It was definitely an address.

"Don't get lost," Lizzie teased. I stuck out my tongue.

"I have a great sense of direction," I said smugly. "You're the one who doesn't even know the names of the streets."

"You are so full of it!" Lizzie cried, chucking a fry at me. I caught it in midair I chewed it up, grinning. It felt good to joke around like this after how serious things had been last week. I had missed my sister a lot more than I thought I would. Even when she was teasing or making fun of me, I considered her my best friend, and I liked to think she felt the same way.

I wondered if she would miss me after Ethan killed me, even if she'd never believe it was Ethan who did it. That thought lasted a split second before I concluded that yes, she would. Not just because she was my sister, but because she genuinely cared about me. Not to mention, she wouldn't have anybody to mess with if I was gone.

My mom would probably miss me too, but she still had Lizzie. Dad might miss me, but I imagined he would be too busy getting rid of Ethan to really mourn too much. Besides, he had the wolves, and they would help him through it. I wasn't worried about him too much.

Everyone else would probably find it a relief that I was gone. No more walking on eggshells around me, no more worrying about broken property or personal safety, no more taking pity on my family for being cursed with me as a son. It might not be such a bad thing for me to be gone, actually. Mom wouldn't have so many bills for all the things I broke, and she wouldn't have to worry about apologizing to everyone about my fits. Nobody would whisper about her in the grocery store. Dad would be taken out of the spotlight for child abuse, since he would never hurt Lizzie in any way. They would have a reason for stopping those almost pointless therapy sessions.

It was kind of depressing, listing all the ways my family would be better off without me, but it made the idea of dying a little less scary. I still hung around the school much long than I normally would on a Wednesday afternoon, asking about grades that I didn't care about, buying things from vending machines that I didn't feel like eating, and checking out clubs that probably didn't want me there. In the end, I had nothing left to stall with, and I decided to just get the whole thing over with.

I didn't know what I expected when I eventually found Ethan's house, but it seemed shockingly normal to me. It was a bright, cheery yellow, with white shutters and a white door. It was two stories tall with a large oak tree growing right next to it. There was even a white picket fence, to my surprise, and the yard was so impeccably green and neat around the small stone path leading to the door that stepping on it seemed like a federal crime. Where did they buy this house from? The American Dream catalogue?

I walked up the stone path carefully, each step feeling more and more like the final walk of a prison inmate on death row. I considered turning to run more than once, but each time I kept going. Running was useless no matter what I was here for, and it would only serve to make me look cowardly in the face of my enemy. I couldn't turn back, no matter what.

I stood in front of the glaringly white door for a long time before I finally knocked, the three tones of knuckles against wood much less serious than I felt the situation called for. I wished for a big brass knocker to drive the creepy factor home, but unfortunately there was only a doorbell. When nobody answered the door after a few minutes, I pushed that and listened to the muffled chime through the door as I waited.

A wet and panting Ethan appeared in the doorway, a towel half-draped over his head and shoulder and damp clothes clinging to his skin.

"Sorry," he gasped, "I was taking a shower and didn't realize you were here already. Come in, come in." I was taken aback by his appearance, until I remembered that he had a weird habit of showering a lot. Still, the fact that he would act like that in front of me, the person he planned to kill, was almost disturbing. Maybe he didn't think it mattered how he acted, since I would be dead soon anyway. Maybe it was simply a ploy to get me to let my guard down.

I froze with one foot in the threshold, realizing that I could still run if I wanted to. I could find my father, tell him about Ethan, and be completely safe. I wondered how long it would take Ethan to catch me if I chose to do that. My chances seemed slim. With a sigh, I entered Ethan's home, and watched the door close menacingly behind me.

"Are you okay?" Ethan asked with a frown, grabbing the towel around his shoulders and scrubbing his hair vigorously.

I'm fine," I lied with a smile. He wouldn't be getting any fear from me. "So, what did you want me to come over for?"

To my surprise, Ethan looked embarrassed. His cheeks turned pink and he clutched the towel around his neck so tight that it stretched taut. "I just wanted to hang out with you," he mumbled so quietly I almost didn't hear him. "Is that okay?"

I didn't understand this behavior. Was he still trying to make me let my guard down? If he was going to kill me, why didn't he just get it over with? Unless he was going to draw this out, which I couldn't understand. Why not get rid of me now and save himself the trouble?

"Uh…yeah, I guess it's fine," I answered with a frown. I would definitely have to pay close attention to his behavior. Just what was his angle, anyway?

Ethan led me upstairs to his room, which was much more normal than I expected, though again I didn't know exactly what I was expecting. The walls were painted a nice shade of lime-green, completely bare of posters or pictures. A nice oak desk was squeezed into the far corner with what looked like a fairly new computer sitting atop it. Papers also littered the space not taken up by the keyboard and mouse pad, messily strewn about with nothing resembling order. A small dresser took up part of the left wall, a few pictures of people I assumed were friends displayed proudly on top. It sat next to an old-looking TV, and I wondered why he had a new computer if he couldn't even get a decent TV, but I didn't ask. Along the right wall was a twin bed covered in messy sheets and clothes, and at the very end on the far wall was a window. If I looked outside, I could see the oak tree I had seen on my way in.

"Sorry," Ethan said suddenly, pushing past me to pick up clothes and trash strewn about. "I meant to clean up but I forgot."

"It's fine," I said, taking a step into the room. "My room's just as messy as this." Though it had a much higher ceiling, I noted. I was somewhat tall, and the ceiling was maybe half a foot above my head. It slanted, too, so that the space above the bed was even shorter. What an odd configuration.

"So…what do you want to do?" Ethan asked after he shoved everything in the clothes hamper. I tried to hide my amusement behind my hand. He looked so earnest. I had to remind myself he was going to kill me.

"I don't care. Whatever." I tried to remain non-chalant. Whatever happened, I couldn't let Ethan know I was scared of him. No matter what, I would not go out as a coward.

Eventually, Ethan decided on video games. I told him he could play and I would watch, since I didn't really like video games. That wasn't exactly true, since I hadn't ever really played them. Our family couldn't afford to buy any gaming consoles. I had never felt a great need to play them, though, even when I saw other people playing them, so I didn't feel like I was missing out.

I settled down on the bed while Ethan leaned against the frame, my back up against the wall both figuratively and literally. If Ethan decided to move in for the kill, there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. Opening the door or window would take precious seconds that would be ample time for him to catch me again. Pretending to go to the bathroom wouldn't fool him for a second once I tried to go down the stairs. Now I was completely trapped, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I still wondered about his behavior, though. Why would he go through the trouble of putting up a front when it was just us? It didn't make any sense. It wasn't possible that he was telling the truth, was it? Why would a bloodthirsty monster want to just "hang out" with me? Sure, I was pretending to be his friend, but…I didn't honestly think he was taking that very seriously. I wanted to ask him about it, but acknowledging this situation felt…dangerous, somehow, and I thought it was probably best just to keep on pretending I didn't know what was going on.

I sighed quietly to myself and let myself fall on my side. My face ended up half-buried in Ethan's pillow, and I smelled raspberries and clean laundry before I was able to right myself. It was a pretty good smell, and somehow it was calming. I breathed it in deeply as I watched the scenes flicker by on the screen.

"Are you bored?" Ethan asked, glancing over his shoulder. I shrugged with one shoulder.

"Not really." More like scared out of my mind.

"You don't look very excited to be here," he said. "If you don't want to hang out with me, you don't have to. You can leave if you want."

This day kept getting more and more confusing. Now I had an open invitation to leave? Was it a trap? That didn't make sense; I was already trapped, so why did I need to be trapped again? Regardless, I wasn't going to fall into any sort of plans Ethan had for me, so I just forced a smile on my face and said, "I'm having a great time."

I didn't know if he believe me or not, but he turned back to his video game without commenting. I was more on-edge than before, checking every little movement for anything that might give him away. I noticed that he kept losing his game, so that could possibly indicate that he was distracted. I didn't know how to use this to my advantage, since I didn't know what was distracting him. However, I was reminded of the questions I wanted to ask him about Friday night. I hadn't perfected my information extraction plan, but as long as I was careful and since I probably wouldn't get another chance, I decided it wouldn't hurt.

"So…Friday," I said slowly, trying to lead him into saying something about it. I kicked myself for such a bad opening, but at least I kept it vague. To my surprise, even the back of Ethan's neck became bright red, and he refused to look at me.

"I was hoping you wouldn't bring that up," he mumbled. My eyes widened as I wondered what could have caused such a reaction. I was more determined than ever to find out just what had happened.

I shrugged as non-chalantly as I could manage, trying to act as if it didn't matter to me even though it did. "I just thought we could talk about it," I said, trying to goad him into saying something, anything, that would give me a direction to go on.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it," he said. "I thought that's why you were avoiding me."

"I wasn't avoiding you; I just didn't see you." It was sort of the truth, though I'd be lying if I said I really _wanted_ to see him. I didn't need to tell him that, though. "Anyway, I want to talk about it now."

Ethan paused the game and turned around so that he was kneeling next to the bed. He hid part of his amazingly red face in his crossed arms and completely avoided eye contact, focusing his eyes somewhat on the foot of his bed.

"Okay," he sighed, his voice muffled through the shield of his arms. He took a few deep breaths. "I assumed a few things then," he admitted. "I know you weren't really yourself and I feel like I took advantage of that. After that day, I was over the moon, because I really like you, but then Lizzie told me everything that had been happening with you and I realized you couldn't really account for your behavior. I didn't think it was possible that you could really like me, so I decided to start over as friends so maybe we could move past it. I thought if you weren't interested, you probably wouldn't bring it up, so I decided just to leave it alone and never mention it again. I know it probably seemed weird, but when something happens to make me uncomfortable, I usually deal with it by pretending it doesn't exist. I'm sorry if that's not what you what, but if you don't like me could you please just play along?"

During Ethan's little speech, I decided to sit up, mostly because I didn't want to give him easy access to any part of me that he could bite while he was turned around. Now I was glad I did, but for an entirely different reason. I was frozen in shock at his words, and if I was going to be frozen I would rather be upright.

What was up with this sudden confession? Was it possible what I thought was a dream had been what really happened on Friday? Was I just denying everything, for the sake of my own sanity? So many questions reeled around my brain, but one stood out among the others: could I trust that what he told me was true?

In the end, I decided that no, I couldn't. I knew who he was…and most importantly, what he was. I couldn't trust that this wasn't all some clever ploy to confuse me. Freaking out, which was honestly my first instinct, would be playing right into whatever plan he had. Instead, I'd go along with this little game he was playing. Besides the fact that it would throw him off, I would also be able to spend more time with him and thus make sure he didn't do anything funny. If he was going through the trouble of putting up a façade, he probably wouldn't be breaking it anytime soon. It also meant that he most likely didn't want to kill me…at least, not yet.

"I didn't say I didn't like you," I said, trying my hardest not to make my voice waver and give me away. If I had to play this part to keep the people I loved safe, then so be it. If I had to pretend to like him, I would gladly do it, if only so he would focus on me and not the people in the town.

Ethan's head snapped up, his eyes wide and surprised. "R-really?" he stammered. I noticed his act was flawless; he didn't seem irked at all that I had completely turned his plan around.

I forced a large grin onto my face. "Yeah," I lied. "I want to go out with you." I wasn't very good at relationships, even fake ones, so I had to take all my knowledge from books and movies to try and figure out how I should act. I'd have to look into it further so I didn't give myself away.

"I'm so glad," Ethan sighed. To my surprise, he climbed onto the bed and I had to repress the urge to shrink away. Instead, I remained carefully relaxed with my legs loosely crossed, watching for what he would do next.

The next few moments were definitely strange. I expected him to do something weird, something I wasn't sure I was equipped to handle but I would try my damndest to endure. However, all he did was kiss me. It was different from my other memories of kissing him though; this one was almost tender, if such a thing could be used to describe a soulless monster. He pressed soft lips to mine over and over, never more than a centimeter separating us. Maybe I got too lost in my role, but it began to be enjoyable, and before I knew it I was kissing back. It hit me that this was my first real kiss that I was fully conscious for, and I wondered if it counted if I was faking it.

I chose to ignore the tight, warm feeling in my chest.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: I'm so sorry I took so long on this chapter. It just got away from me, and I actually ended up having to start over again from what I had before because it sucked. But in my opinion, this one's quite a bit better.

I should warn that there's some sex in this one. Well, not sex exactly...I guess you'll see, since if that doesn't deter you, you'll be reading the chapter anyway.

I really want to write the next chapter, so hopefully there'll be a speedy update for that one. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry for the shortness, but it felt like a good place to stop.

* * *

I jolted out of my light doze when a clap of thunder practically shook the house around me. A muffled cry from Ethan, laying mere feet away on the floor, was barely audible in the midst of the devastating sound.

I sighed and rolled onto my back, kicking the comforter that was bunched around my knees down to the foot of the bed. It figures that on the hottest night of the year, a thunderstorm decided to show up. I hadn't been able to do more than doze since I went to bed.

At least that was more than I could say for Ethan.

Dad had blown up when he heard Ethan was sleeping in Lizzie's room. He was more than a little old-fashioned, and decided that it would be better if he slept in my room. Personally, I thought the couch was the best place for him, but when the storm hit, we all learned of Ethan's crippling fear of thunder. The decision was set: he didn't want to sleep alone, so he got my floor.

Another loud clap sounded, and I heard what sounded suspiciously like a sob. I felt a twinge of guilt, but ignored it. This had to be a trick; what kind of vampire was scared of thunderstorms?

Still...

I snuck a glance over my shoulder when a flash of lightning lit up the room. He was curled up in a ball, hugging his pillow so tightly I was surprised feathers weren't popping out either end. His blanket was wrapped around him, despite the heat, and his eyes were screwed shut tightly. It looked like he was trying to will the storm away with his mind. I turned back quickly before he saw me move.

It had been three weeks since we'd started "dating." I used the term as loosely as possible since it was definitely a lie on my part. I didn't even know if it could be considered dating between two guys. I hadn't told anyone about it, not even Lizzie. She suspected something had changed, but I wasn't going to tell her and Ethan was keeping it a secret, so there was no way she'd find out.

The only real difference was that we were spending more time together. I usually blew at least half of my paycheck per week by going out, and that was only when I paid for myself. We still hadn't worked out who paid for meals and activities, so we were just paying for ourselves until we did.

Not that I really wanted to pay for him.

I was beginning to question my plan, though, and whether or not it was actually working. I didn't know more about his true self as a vampire than I did before, though I now knew that his middle name was Benjamin, his favorite color was green, and when he was five he had a pet turtle named Lorrie that drowned in the toilet when he forgot to take her out one night before dinner. Despite this, I was reluctant to call it off. It might take awhile, but I knew I could get what I wanted if I were patient.

My real concern was, honestly, myself. I had always been a decent actor, and tricking Ethan into thinking I really cared about him was fairly easy. However, I felt like I was getting into the role too much. Whenever we kissed, I found myself lingering a little too long. I would reach for his hand if I wasn't paying attention, and if I didn't catch myself I would end up spending the whole night holding it. Sometimes I'd actually find myself enjoying a hug more than I should and, though I tried as hard as I could to prevent this, he had started invading my masturbation fantasies.

So far, I'd managed to pass it off as being too committed to the lie, but I didn't know how much longer I could keep it up if things continued this way. I was afraid I was going to go insane, or actually buy into the story I'd woven. Above all else, it was important that I remembered this was a ruse, and nothing more.

Another loud clap of thunder sounded, followed by a piercing cry that was most definitely a badly-muffled sob. I guess I expected what came next, but that didn't stop me from groaning in protest when Ethan climbed into my bed, blanket and all.

"It's too hot," I said, at the last minute remembering to slur my voice as if I'd been asleep. Ethan didn't seem to notice as he wrapped his arms around my waist in a grip tighter than I would ever expect from him and buried his face in my spine, his nose bumping up against my skin uncomfortably. It didn't take a genius to tell that the wetness on my back wasn't all sweat, and I sighed in resignation as I turned over ad let him bury himself in my chest instead.

It was times like these that I could forget what he was, forget what he was trying to do, and indulge in the strange protectiveness I'd begun to feel toward him. Either he was a great actor, or he wasn't faking it, and I couldn't think of a single reason why it would be beneficial to pretend to be scared of storms. I wrapped an arm around him and the blanket, trying to ignore the heat for the time being, and let him sob into my chest.

"I'm s-sorry," he stammered when he'd calmed down a bit. "I tried to be b-brave like you, but...I just c-can't. I'm s-so scared."

I almost laughed when he said "brave like you," but stopped myself just in time. It was clear by the tone of his voice that he was serious, and if I laughed now, he might think I was laughing at his fear. As far as I knew, he had no intention of drinking my blood for a while, but I didn't want to set him off.

I wondered what he'd think if he knew I lay awake the night after a fit, and went over the scenario in my head over and over again, until it seemed to be playing on the back of my eyelids? I wonder what he'd think if he knew I sometimes cried myself to sleep over it? I wonder what he'd think if he knew all the things I really was, instead of this image of myself I'd created? Would he think I was brave, if he knew that, or would he recognize me for the real coward that I was?

I felt Ethan shiver against me and pull the blanket tighter, and noticed his skin was ice-cold and practically drenched in sweat. I frowned.

"Are you getting sick?" I asked, habit forcing me to press my hand to what little forehead I could reach. His head was the same: cool and clammy to the touch, sweat dampening strands of hair and plastering them to his face.

"I-I'm fine," Ethan insisted, shaking my hand off and burying his face on my chest once more. "I always get like this when I'm scared. It's nothing to worry about."

"It is when it's almost 90 and you're still cold." I tightened my arms instinctively. "Haven't you ever seen a doctor about this?"

"No, because there's nothing wrong with me." I heard an edge in Ethan's voice that shocked me. He was pretty easy-going, and the last person you would ever expect to pick a fight. He didn't pull away or show any other sign of annoyance, but still...I could tell it was a touchy subject. I decided to let it go.

Silence fell in the dark room, and it even seemed like the storm was starting to subside. The rumbles were fewer and farther-between, and they weren't nearly as intense as they had been. Even the heat seemed to be letting up a little. Sure, there wasn't much room on my twin bed for the two of us, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. It felt sort of...right..if such a thing could be explained that way.

I resolved to stop thinking for the rest of the night and fully relaxed, letting my eyes slide shut. The first symptoms of dozing began to hit me: snatches of dreams that I would never remember, whispered voices full of nonsense, the strange flickering between full awareness and the feeling of being pulled underwater.

My head broke the surface at the feel of lips pressing against mine, the lovely feeling of sleep drifting farther away as I opened my eyes blearily to find Ethan's face mere inches from my own.

"What do you want?" I mumbled, too annoyed about my sleep being lost to find the energy to be annoyed about the kiss.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It just feels like such a natural thing to me that I guess it annoys me when people don't see it that way too."

I could relate to that. As much as I still hated the fits, they had become a natural thing to me as well. As much as I freaked out about them afterward, I had learned to move on quickly, instead of dwelling on it indefinitely. Could the reason that I was so distant from everyone be a simple conflict of thoughts, or was I over-thinking the whole situation?

Anyway, how could I possibly compare the two situations? There were nothing alike, even if I desperately wanted them to be, even if I desperately wanted something to be like my own situation, so maybe I didn't feel so alone. Even if the person who was like me was a vampire, just knowing that might be comforting.

I was jerked out of my thoughts by another kiss, this one on a previously unknown sensitive spot on my throat. I barely managed to stifle a groan as I glared down at Ethan's grinning face.

"What the hell?" I hissed.

"Did you know your forehead creases when you're thinking really hard?" Ethan giggled. "It's kind of cute."

"What?" I frowned, wondering where the timid boy from what seemed like minutes ago had gone. This was a side of him I'd begun to see more and more of, but I certainly hadn't expected it to show up now, after that storm. It figured that on the night I really wanted to sleep, the universe would work against me to make it impossible.

Ethan didn't say anything, instead leaning forward to press another kiss to my lips. I let him do it, even allowing him to deepen it and relaxing as he practically climbed on top of me. _So what if I'm getting into my role too much? _I thought lazily as his hand roamed over my chest and – I winced when I realized this – flabby stomach. Too many times I had skipped the gym. I'd have to remedy that soon. By playing into my own story, I was much more convincing. And anyway, it didn't exactly feel bad. Indulging a bit wouldn't kill me, and in the long run it would probably pay off.

I tried to hold back a moan when he slid his hand lower, down past the elastic waistband of my boxers, to grip my already half-hard member – I chalked that up to teenage hormones – but it slipped out anyway. I could practically see the dopey grin on Ethan's face as he continued, only stopping briefly to slick his hand up with some kind of lotion he got from who-knew-where. I should have known he was planning something like this.

Despite his appearance, Ethan could be a huge pervert. I discovered this in the second week of dating him. That had bee the first time he'd tried anything, but at the time I told him I didn't want to. The discomfort was evident, and he backed down fairly easily after that. Guess he was just waiting for a better opportunity, and apparently this was it.

Not that I was complaining by that point. Awkwardness aside, something that was gradually disappearing between us, it felt really good. Much better than when I did it myself. My hands found themselves completely occupied covering my mouth, trying not to wake up the rest of the house, as stars exploded behind my eyes and my heart _tha-thumped_ in my throat.

When I came, I had to bury my face in the pillow to keep from screaming, and my head was swimming so much that I felt I was back in my dream again. I hadn't thought about that in a while, though I probably should have given recent circumstances. Still, it seemed like the real thing was wholly different than the dream, and I couldn't bring myself to make a connection with the two in my mind. As far as I was concerned, they weren't even related.

A muffled whine tore my addled brain away from my thoughts and forced my attention on the other inhabitant of the bed. He had rolled away without me noticing and, completely naked, was now jerking himself off desperately.

I couldn't help but think how beautiful he looked in what little moonlight was now filtering through the window. His sweat-drenched hair had been swept back off his forehead, completely revealing his face, a mixture of pleasure and pain with soft cries escaping his lips every now and then. Maybe it was the fact that I wasn't in my right mind that made me think it was a good idea, but after only a moment's hesitation I reached out to stroke him, trying to adopt the slower rhythm he'd used on me.

Ethan's hand fell to the side as mine quickly found a good rhythm. I could hear his cries becoming more muffled as he tried desperately to stifle them. A strange sort of satisfaction washed over me when I heard that, and I doubled my efforts to see what other noises I would hear.

As luck would have it, I managed to glance up as he came. If he had been beautiful before, it seemed to pale in comparison to how he looked now. His eyes were screwed shut tight, mouth open in a silent scream as he arched off the mattress. One hand clenched in the sheets while the other, which was practically hanging off the bed by this point, had found the leg of my bedside table and either trying to knock it over or trying not to knock it over.

When he calmed down, his breath came in soft pants and his eyes were glazed as he smiled lazily at me. I started to lay back down and soon found myself entangled in another kiss by a very rumpled Ethan. I let him use my chest as a pillow when he settled back down, the heat suddenly becoming very insignificant.

"We should do that more often," Ethan murmured sleepily. I made a non-committal sound in my throat, closing my eyes. "You don't agree?"

"I'm tired," I grunted, deciding not to vouch either way. My reason had returned only moments later, and I was trying to hold off the immense wave of shame and guilt I knew was sure to come. Sleep would be a balm for those feelings.

"Okay then, we should go to sleep." For a few moments, everything was silent, and I really had hope for drifting off to sleep, but then: "Hey, Barlie?"

"What?" I groaned in annoyance. It should not have been this hard to fall asleep.

"I love you."

My eyes flew open and I almost sat up straight, but Ethan weighed me down.

"What's wrong? I thought you were tired."

"You...you..." I spluttered, trying to find the right choice of words. "Are you serious?"

Ethan shrugged, and for some reason his non-chalance about the matter annoyed me. "Yeah, I'm serious. I don't say that unless I mean it. I love you, Barlie." The blond yawned widely, his demeanor way too relaxed for someone who just made a huge confession like that. "Anyway, I'm tired now, too. Goodnight." In a few short moments, his head still pillowed on my chest, he had fallen into a softly snoring sleep.

My mind, however, was now reeling, and sleep had once again become impossible.

I wondered if I could take him at his word that it was a true proclamation of love. After all, he was a vampire, born to deceive others for his own means, and this might just be one more way to manipulate me into doing what he wanted. Though I still hadn't figured out what that was. I silently cursed Lorrie. Maybe her uselessness could have been replaced with some hard evidence if she had never existed. Stupid turtle.

Anyway, hadn't we only been dating three weeks? Was it customary to tell someone you loved them so soon, assuming he was telling the truth? I was honestly flailing; I'd never had a relationship like this before – or even a normal one, for that matter – so I couldn't be sure how to react. Did I tell him I loved him back, even if it was a lie, in an effort to maintain the ruse, or did I just skirt around the topic and hope he didn't notice? I didn't really like either option very much.

Ethan shifted a bit in his sleep and mumbled, too quietly for me to hear what he was saying. An unconscious smile tugged at my lips, and I reached out to push back a strand of hair before I caught myself and pulled the offending appendage tightly against my body. There was no doubt I was going nuts, now, and I was definitely buying into my own ruse. I had to find some way to stop this, or he would be the one pulling the strings, not me. We couldn't have that, or else...or else...

Now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen Ethan do a single dishonest thing since meeting him. That might be because he was trying to deceive me, but for the life of me I couldn't see what end that would accomplish. There hadn't been any strange disappearances or murders recently, none of the wolves had mentioned any killings or seen anything suspicious as far as I knew. Was it possible that I was overreacting to the situation. Could it be that, even if he was a blood-sucker, he wasn't bad? Everyone was free to make their own decision, I suppose, and being a vampire might not have been his fault or his choice. Had I wrongfully accused him in my own mind due to my own prejudices? Looking back on all my behavior, it didn't seem fair.

I'd had enough with dancing around the subject. Tomorrow I would find out once and for all what his intentions were. If they were bad, I knew Dad and the others could handle it. But if they were good...

I decided not to think about that tonight and relaxed against the pillows, letting my eyes slide shut for the umpteenth time that night. Despite my thoughts, the pull of tiredness was too strong to ignore. Finally, finally, I fell asleep.


End file.
